


The Thorns And The Roses

by Bittodeath



Series: The Voice of Flowers [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Annie is Reiner's sister, BDSM, Fluff, Français | French, Friendship, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Jean and Marco are art students, Jean is in the closet, M/M, Marco and Bertolt are brothers, Minor Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart, Minor Sasha Blouse/Connie Springer, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein, Slow Build, Smut, University, at least I try to, everyone is French, past Reiner/Connie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6496981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story is a modern AU, set in Paris. Bertholdt and Marco are brothers, and when they lost their parents, Bert took custody for his little brother. They are both at uni, and it is where they meet Reiner and Jean.</p>
<p>Reiner is older (just a bit) and owns a BDSM dungeon. His employees are Erwin, Levi, Mike and Hanji. He has an older sister, Annie, who is in a relationship with Armin.</p>
<p>Jean was born in a (very) religious family and thus he doesn’t acknowledge his homosexuality. He was in a relationship with Mikasa in high school, but in fact his eyes were set on her brother, Eren. They broke up before he entered uni.</p>
<p>Marco has been in one relationship for three months with Christa, but they came to the evidence that it wouldn’t work.</p>
<p>As for Bert, he has never been in a relationship - he doesn’t have the time, between his job, uni and taking care of his brother.</p>
<p>But when Bert suddenly loses his job and can’t seem to find another, Reiner appears like and angel come to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, a few things before we begin: I do my best with dealing with BDSM seriously, still there might be inaccuracies and mistakes. Forgive me for that, and if you have some advice, I'm willing to take it.
> 
> Second, the rating: generally T, but with the BDSM subject, I needed at least an M rating. There will be some Explicit passages, but I will warn you in the notes before-hand.
> 
> Third, I hope no one will be disturbed with the way I deal with French customs. French words will be translated if needed.
> 
> Fourth, this story is Reibert and JeanMarco centered. There are side-pairings, and some of them will be developed in other stories.

Marco opened his eyes when he smelt the coffee, yawned and turned to look at the kitchen, dragging the covers with him. Bertholdt was already up and ready to go, wolfing down what looked like a breakfast as he put on his jacket. He saw his little brother looking at him and winked with a smile.

“Have a good day at Uni, Marco”, he said, waving his hand as he went out.  
“You too”, Marco answered.

Bertholdt strode to the metro and took the first that would get him near St-Sebastian-le-Juste, the small, warm and welcoming retirement home where he worked part-time and helped with most of the chores, chatting with the charming old people living here. It was nowhere near a big, industrialized retirement home and had very few personal, for very few clients, all in all an agreeable working place. The best however, was that they paid him just what he needed to get through the months with Marco. In fact, it was not officially a retirement home, just old people, mostly single, who had had enough of living alone and couldn’t afford a regular retirement home.

The metro was full, as usual, and he sighed. Since they had lost their parents three years ago, he had been the guardian of his little brother. Barely nineteen at the time, he had struggled to take care of a sixteen years old Marco, and somehow managed, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t exhausted. Between his work, his studies – he was just beginning his first year for a professional master, IT professional, course languages and programming in Paris 7 – and the chores, his plate was full with more than he could deal with. Marco was a nice boy and did everything he could to help him at home, but it didn’t change the fact that he was physically and mentally exhausted.

Lately, they had even more outlays with Marco entering Uni for an art License. He was gifted, this was a fact, and Bertholdt didn’t complain about those outlays. However, art materials were really expensive and he had had to work more to match the two ends of the month. Closing his eyes, he tried to relax he strained shoulders. During summer he worked more and saved up money, but once school resumed, things were… more difficult. And as perfect of a brother as Marco was, Bertholdt had not been ready to raise a teenager to adulthood when he was barely and adult himself. They were closer than most siblings and shared everything, but they were alone. Thanking God they still had each other, they couldn’t help but feel small and lost when they couldn’t pay electricity bills and had to go through a month or two without heating during winter.

The metro stopped and Bertholdt shook his head. It was no time to get depressed, he thought as he got his lanky body to move around the crowd, putting on a smile as he reached St-Sebastian. As usual, Paris was buzzing with activities – and so were the professionals inside the building.

“Bertholdt?” a voice called.  
“Yes, what is it?”  
“The Director would like to have a word with you in her office”, a middle-aged nurse said to him.

He nodded, thanked her for the information and walked to the small office, knocking on the door and waiting for an answer. He received it almost immediately and entered, closing the door behind him. The Director was a third-age class woman with curly white hair and glasses, a charming smile and a commanding voice. She looked particularly grave that morning, and Bertholdt felt his heart tinge with worry.

“Sit down, Bertholdt, please”, she said, motioning to a chair in front of her desk. “You are a precious employee here, and all of us like you and your hard work, you know.”  
“Thank you, _Madame_ ”, he replied in a professional tone that helped him covering his nervousness and stutters.  
“We’ve had severe economic difficulties for the past months. I regret to have to say this, but this building have been sold to pay off our debts and will no longer be St-Sebastian-le-Juste. We will all be gone by the end of the following month, but your contract actually ended yesterday. You should use your time wisely and search for another work. I am deeply sorry we have to let you down like that, I know you have a brother to take care of, but there is nothing else we can do.”

Bertholdt’s mind blanked. He was… losing his work? How could this possibly happen?

“I- I-”, he started, then stopped. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. He felt so helpless, everything collapsing on him and he couldn’t do a single thing about it. His exhaustion gave way to something darker – despair. What was he to do without a job? How was he supposed to take care of Marco? “I understand”, he finally managed to say. “And I thank you for taking care of us these past three years.”  
“You’re a nice, hard-working and intelligent young man, Bertholdt. You will find something else quickly, I assure you.”

He thanked her in a low voice and went out. Stopped by a wall. _Dad, what am I supposed to do now? It’s not like finding a job is that easy…_ The scholarship he and Marco received from the state for their studies paid the rent, electricity and water. They couldn’t go without eating. Worried and his mind clearly out of it, he went back home after the morning rush. Marco had tidied up the apartment – well, to be precise, the two rooms they called a home. He was sitting on their shared bed, his old laptop sitting on his legs as he scrolled through references for the sketch he was drawing. He frowned as soon as he saw his older brother’s pale complexion and rushed to him.

“Are you feeling bad?”

Bertholdt shook his head, collapsing on the bed and taking his head in his hands.

“I lost my job”, he said in a strangled voice.

Marco froze. He could see how mentally and physically strained his brother was. He sat by his side and hugged him tightly, smiling though his heart wasn’t at it.

“We’ll make it through, Bert, don’t worry. Paris is big, you’ll find another job, I can work part-time as well, we-”

Bertholdt hugged him back.

“Thank you, Marco. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
“Silly things”, the young man answered with a laugh. “Now, we should start searching before we have to go.”  
“Yes, you’re right.”

They searched. Bertholdt searched like a fool, but by the end of the month, two weeks later, he hadn’t find anything. With their unusual expenses for material and the damn leak they had in the bathroom, his whole pay disappeared and he didn’t see the color of it. They barely had enough to pay the rent and eat until the end of the month. What would happen after? They didn’t know. Marco was worried for his brother, who was paler than usual, dark circles under his eyes and an obvious lack of sleep straining his lanky body. He himself had lost some weight and seemed tired. But what could he do, besides studying as hard as he could?

 

They had two days left, and Bertholdt didn’t know what to do anymore, so he had settled on studying at the library. He was halfway through his book on French linguistics when he realized he wasn’t reading anymore, but worrying restlessly on the upcoming rent and other expenses. He groaned and stuffed his head in his book. He was hungry. He didn’t have enough to waste it on a coffee or a viennoiserie, no, so he just let his stomach growl. No wonder he was even skinnier – scrawny, his mother would have said, but she wasn’t there to see her dear boy’s state – than before.

“Are you alright?” a deep, warm, gentle voice asked above him.

He looked up: a huge guy was looming over him, with open features and a worried look on his face. He had blond hair cut short, and he was staring at him with deep concern in his eyes. He looked like he was the comforting type, the big brother everyone dreamt of, with his honest face and broad shoulders. Bertholdt’s thoughts stopped for a moment on the guy’s shape: he was well-built, a bit alluring and powerful with his green t-shirt straining on his torso’s muscles and his slim black jeans outlining his thighs.

“Y-Yeah, I’m alright”, he managed to say without stuttering too much.  
“You don’t look like you are. Studying too much, perhaps?”  
“No, that’s not-”  
“Anyway, come with me”, the big blond guy said as he grabbed his stuff and started to put it in Berthold’s bag, “you need to get out, rest and eat something. I can hear your stomach growling from here.”  
“I-I can’t-”  
“Yes you can, now come with me”, he said as he grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up.

Bertholdt’s mind wasn’t processing what was happening and, without reflecting too much on it, he followed the blond man to a nearby café, where they sat. He came back to his senses with a coffee cup in his hand and cookies on a plate in front of him. His mind slowly started off as he nibbled into a cookie, before wolfing it down hungrily. The blond stranger was sitting opposed to him, sipping a black coffee like he hadn’t just dragged him out of the library and brought him to the café.

“Feeling any better?” he asked as Bertholdt looked a bit more alive than he was before.

His voice snapped Bertholdt back to reality and he stopped mid-chomping on a cookie. He managed to swallow his bite and blushed, really embarrassed.

“I’m sorry I- I don’t have any money left to repay you and…”  
“Calm down, calm down”, the blond man said soothingly, “consider it a present.”  
“But- I…”  
“You don’t owe me anything, really.” He smiled broadly and held out a hand. “The name’s Reiner Braun, I’m a student as well. Third year of master, though. Psychopathology and psychoanalysis, I research psychosis and borderline behaviors, sexuality and traumatisms. And you are?”  
“B-Bertholdt Hoover, this is my first year of master.”

Reiner nodded and leaned forward, pushing back his empty cup.

“So tell me, why do you seem so frantic when you clearly weren’t feeling well?”

Bertholdt gulped and fidgeted, obviously not willing to share his troubles with the gentle stranger who just saved his life. Reiner saw his discomfort and smiled.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to make uncomfortable or anything, I was just wondering the cause for your actions. Call it a professional deformation.” His smile became broader. “You really like cookies, don’t you?”

Half of the plate had already disappeared.

“Y-Yeah, it’s been a while since I last ate some.” A thought crossed his mind “Do you mind if I take one or two for my brother? He would love to have some.”  
“Sure, go on. Is it a younger brother?”  
“Yes, three years younger. Marco.”

Bertholdt smiled softly and Reiner could see how fond of his brother he was.

“I have an older sister. She’s cool but really… condescending, you know? And awfully protective. Even now that I’m twice her size and weight, she’s ready to fight anyone willing to hurt me. And I pity the poor guy who would face her.”  
“Is she that terrible?” Bertholdt asked with a smile. “But I understand. I could not stand the thought of my brother getting hurt.”  
“You two seem to be pretty close, aren’t you?”

Bertholdt nodded and smiled.

“Everybody likes him. It’s not possible not to like him. He’s the nicest, sweetest, kindest person I’ve ever known.”  
“That much? He has to be one hell of a guy.”  
“Yeah. When we lost our parents and I became his tutor, he could have rebelled or contested my authority, but he didn’t. He has always obeyed me and helped me without me asking. I can’t shake off the thought that he deserved better.”

Reiner stared at him, not uttering a word as Bertholdt poured his heart over him. Obviously, things had not been easy for him and he had had a lot on his mind. Listening to him was the best he could do. He found himself admiring the soft lines of his face, and his dark green eyes. Well, he needed a bit more meat on his bones, but there was something sweet and gentle in him, something that pushed his protective instinct.

Bertholdt shook his head and blushed.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say all these things, please forget it!”  
“It’s okay. You lived some rough things, didn’t you?”

Bertholdt nodded and ran a hand through his black strands of hair. He sighed, his barriers collapsing under Reiner’s earnest gaze.

“I’m worried because I lost my job and I can’t find another one. Without money, I can’t take care of my brother. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

A light lit up in Reiner’s eyes. He knew he was growing fond of the guy. Someone so selfless, so sweet, gentle and defenceless… His instincts told him to help him, and he always listened to his instincts. They had never betrayed him until now.

“Maybe I can help you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bertholdt finally learns where he is going to work and meets his co-workers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this, hope it shows! (I think it is obvious how I visually indulged myself. I am but a mere human.)

“What?” Bertholdt said with widened eyes.  
“Actually, I possess a small… business, and I need one more employee on evenings. I’d like to hire you, if that’s okay with you.”

Bertholdt stared at him, speechless.

“The… setting is quite unusual and might surprise you at first, but you won’t have to deal with it. I just need someone to welcome patrons, take their stuff to the cloakroom and help cleaning everything afterwards. I just need to be sure that you can be open-minded and respectful, even facing things unusual or that you don’t understand.”

Bertholdt frowned.

“You’re starting to freak me out. If it is something illegal, I don’t want to be involved.”

Reiner shook his head.

“Nothing illegal, but the thing is I’m quite used to deal with self-righteous people who think of my clients as freaks or lunatics and well, I’d rather not hire someone like that. Actually, the job I offered you is to welcome people to my BDSM dungeon.”

He could have dropped a bomb, Bertholdt wouldn’t have been more shocked. He choked on his cookie and started coughing.

“Sorry, I wasn’t prepared for this”, he said when he finally caught his breath, “but I accept your offer. I don’t know shit about BDSM or anything related, but if it’s just welcoming patrons and taking their coats and bags, I can do that.”

Reiner smiled.

“That’s great! Well, is it okay with you if I take you there this evening at like… six? You’ll be able to see the place for yourself before we open, meet your colleagues, and make all the official trash we need to do.”  
“That’s alright with me. Here”, he said as he wrote on a napkin, “this is my phone number and my address. I’ll be waiting for you.”  
“Oh, one more thing. There’s a dress-code quite strict, I hope you have a tuxedo?”

Bertholdt frowned as he thought about it, and nodded.

“Yeah I have one.”  
“Perfect. Oh my, look at the time! I have to go, there’s a course I need to attend.”  
“Thank you for everything, Reiner”, Bertholdt said as the tall blond guy stood up and left money for the cookies, the coffees, plus the tip for the waitress.

He quickly disappeared, and Bertholdt was left alone, wondering what he had just agreed to. He stayed there, contemplating his life and choices, before actually pulling himself together and make his way back home. Marco was already there, unsurprisingly working on a draft.

“Bert! How was your day?”

His older brother smiled as wide as he could.

“I found a job, I start tonight.”  
“Wow, that’s great! But… Will you be working every night?”  
“I don’t know yet, I’ll see with the boss this evening. I need to be ready by six.”

Bertholdt took off his coat, hanged it by the door and collapsed on the bed next to his brother, resting his head over Marco’s shoulder and eyeing his drawing.

“Nice. Who is it?”

Marco blushed and fiddled with his stuff.

“A guy I met today, he’s in my class. We befriended.”

The sketch was still rough, but Bertholdt could make out the features of a young man with joyful features, and a head-shape that reminded him of a horse. The attention Marco had put in his eyes told him long about how fascinated he was by this new guy.

“Seems like you found a muse, didn’t you?”  
“Don’t you find it weird?” he asked, uneasy.  
“Not at all. If he inspires you, that’s great. If you find him attractive, that’s good for you. And if you want to take it further, as long as he agrees, I don’t see any problem.”

Marco’s eyes glimmered as he looked up to his brother.

“Really? Thank you Bert. I was afraid you…”  
“What, you thought I would get upset over something like this? Maaaan I don’t even know where I am on the spectrum, I could very well be gay as fuck and not know it.”

Marco looked at him, surprised.

“What, you never thought about it?”  
“Well I might have when I was younger, but since I was too shy to ever speak to someone, I thought it didn’t matter. And after, I had other things to worry about rather than my sexuality.” Bertholdt shrugged and smiled. “I don’t think it is really important. What matters is to be comfortable with the person you’re with, and love them.”

Marco nodded, deep in thoughts.

“I see what you mean. Honestly, I don’t care what other people think, but you… I wanted to be sure it was okay with you.”  
“It is.” Bertholdt ruffled his hair. “I’ll be proud of you whatever you do. Plus, you’ll always be my baby brother…” he resumed in a playful tone.  
“Hey, I grew up, Bert!” Marco protested, laughing.

They teased each other a moment, giggling like idiots – with a job, everything seemed brighter.

“I need to get prepared”, Bertholdt finally said before disappearing in the small bathroom to take a shower.

A few minutes later, he was searching through his clothes in his underwear.

“What are you doing?”  
“I need my tuxedo.”  
“What, you need to look like a penguin to work?” Marco asked with a giggle.  
“Shut up”, Bertholdt answered with a smile. “Here it is!”

 

He dressed and gave some money to Marco to order food, before walking downstairs and waited for Reiner to pick him up. He didn’t wait long – and his eyes bulged, nearly getting out of their sockets, when he saw the car that stopped in front of him. Metal grey, it shone, well taken care of. It was a coupé sport, with a roaring motor. He opened the passenger’s door and carefully got in, folding his long legs the best he could. Behind the wheel, Reiner laughed.

‘Sorry, sorry, these cars weren’t thought for tall people. I barely use it, to be honest, but it’s useful and well, it was my birthday present, couldn’t say no!”

Bertholdt looked at him suspiciously, ridiculously folded.

“Are you sure you don’t do anything illegal?”  
“Certain. Well, I guess you need some explanations, it might seem very strange to you. The thing is, my family is rich. My sister will inherit the familial business since she is interested in it and the oldest. I’ve wanted to open a BDSM dungeon for a long time, so I borrowed money from them to start my little business. I’ve paid back everything now, and I continue my studies mostly for appearances. It doesn’t present well to say that I make money owning a dungeon in official parties.”  
“And you’re not interested in inheriting the business from your family?”  
“Not at all. I find it boring, and I am way freer working on my own. Plus, I do something I like and I’ve got nothing to worry about; I like being around people, mostly because studying their behaviors is fascinating, but also because I enjoy to make them laugh.” He slightly turned his head to look at Bertholdt. “Do you find me strange?”  
“Just a bit. I understand most of your reasons, but I’m not really comfortable around people, so…”  
“Yes, I got this part. Don’t worry though, my team is neat. They’ll do their best to make you comfortable. And you can always talk to me.”  
“Thank you”, Bertholdt answered for both the offer and the assurance that he wouldn’t be working with people _too_ strange.  
“Here it is”, Reiner said, stopping the car in front of a simple building that looked like every other around. The only difference was the sign above the door, written “The Thorns and the Roses”.  
“Here…?”  
“Yup”, Reiner said with a laugh, “not what you were waiting for, uh? I guessed so. The people who come to my dungeon mostly prefer to stay discreet about their involvement in BDSM, and this place looks pretty plain from the outside. C’mon, we need to start working”, he added as he got out of the car.

Bertholdt’s knees cracked awfully as he stood up, unfolding his tall body and flattening his lightly creased clothes. Reiner eyed him and smiled contentedly.

“You look good dressed like that. That’s perfect.”

He unlocked the door and entered, the tall brunet following him. He lightly closed the door behind them, and Bertholdt looked around. Once more, the entrance was plain and simple. There was a counter and, behind, a large closet and a door. On the other side, facing the entry, another door blocked his view, granting the access to the actual dungeon. There was a third door facing the counter – water closet written in gilded letters.

“The place is bigger than it seems from here”, Reiner intervened, “I’ll show you around. But first, what will be the most important thing for you: your workplace. And the space behind is the breakroom for employees, there are toilets, seats, a table, a coffeemaker and a tea-pot. Perhaps some snacks as well, I don’t know. You can put your stuff here.”

Bertholdt nodded and put his bag there, thinking that he would regret not taking a coat when he would get out.

“However, it is a non-smoker area. I don’t know if you smoke but if you do, it is outside.”  
“I don’t”, Bertholdt replied.

Reiner hummed in approval and, getting into the breakroom, fiddled in a box stuck on the wall. There were countless buttons, each and every one clearly labelled with red tape. Bertholdt curiously looked over his shoulder, stepping back when the blond closed the box.

“This here is the electric meter. All the lights are controlled from here. The first to arrive switches on everything, and the last to go switches off everything. There are two keys, I have one, one of the guys, Erwin, has the other. When I am not here, you are to refer to him as the boss. Everyone should be here around seven, so we should talk about your contract. After, we’ll be busy setting everything up. You won’t have to come in when there are patrons, however you’ll have to help cleaning up. The cleaning supplies are in a closet inside, and my study is there as well. If you want to, I can show you around, but if you don’t want to I will not force you. Of course if you want someone else to give you a tour, it’s up to you.”

 

Solemnly, Reiner opened the door. Seeing Bertholdt peeking inside, both curious and nervous, was really funny. The play of lights looked simple, but living around an artist like Marco, Bertholdt knew almost immediately the amount of work put in it: some places were highlighted, particularly small and medium sized stages, and others were almost completely left in the dark, small comfortable alcoves. Armchairs and small sofas were scattered all around. The decor was mostly red and steel-grey, with touches of black here and there. There were several doors all around, and Bertholdt realized the place was definitely way bigger than it seemed. You could tell the person who decorated new true luxury and had done it with much pleasure.

“Sometimes, we put screens in here, mostly for events, to separate the different areas. You can buy drinks here, but we don’t serve alcohol. It would be too dangerous. The stages are used during events, for our professionals to present some aspects of BDSM. Things like that”, Reiner explained as he shrugged. “The doors lead to several rooms decorated in one style or another. And my study is here”, he added as he pushed a tapestry hiding another door. “You knock and you come in. Don’t wait for my permission unless I’ve said otherwise.”

Slowly, Bertholdt stepped into the room and sat in the chair Reiner pointed out to him. They discussed the contract and Bertholdt accepted to work every evening except on Fridays. He also had his Monday off, since the dungeon wasn’t open, and a reasonable wage – just what Marco and him needed to make it to the end of the month. Reiner sighed and stretched once they had discussed everything.

“I hate paperwork”, he said, “and there a lot I have to do.”  
“Can’t anyone help you?”  
“Well, I prefer to do it myself, to know exactly where we are and what we need, though I delegated some to Erwin and Levi. C’mon, they should be arriving in a few”, he added as he got up.

Bertholdt follow him, feeling a bit awkward when they crossed the central room once more, and they came back to the entrance.

 

“Reiiiiiiiner!” a voice screeched, and Bertholdt jumped.

Something that looked vaguely like a person dashed off from the breakroom and slammed against the blond boss. He received the blow quite well, only taking a step back as the person bounced on their heels, clinging to him.

“Levi is being terrible”, the voice said with a pout.

From the other side of Reiner’s massive body, Bertholdt could make out brown, mussy hair tied in a ponytail and the medium size of a woman. Reiner laughed and pecked her cheek to bid her a good evening.

“Hanji, over-excited as ever! Let me look at you”, he said, pulling her away. “My, you look fabulous in this dress. Told you it would suit you.”  
“Thank you! You really have an eye for clothes, Reiner.”

Bertholdt discretely observed the strange creature who was speaking loud and joyously. It was a woman with beautiful brown hair that she finally let loose, hanging on her practically naked shoulders. She was perhaps in her late twenties or early thirties, with a small, cute face and big brown eyes. Her body was clad in a sparkling red dress, underlining her gracious light curves and showing her long legs. Reiner handed her something, and a second later, she was wearing a white lab-coat over her dress and enormous glasses.

“Shitty-Glasses, come back here, how dare you eat my Snickers…” a voice growled.

Behind them stood a small man who was glancing ferociously at Hanji, with a black under-cut and silver-grey eyes enhanced with black eye-liner. He had a pale skin, almost porcelain like, and though he wasn’t tall, he looked strong in his out-of-age Victorian clothes. He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the shy, tall guy half-hidden behind Reiner.

“And who’s that behind you?”  
“This is Bertholdt, he will work here starting today. He doesn’t know a single thing about BDSM so don’t go traumatizing him. Hanji, I’m looking at you. He will be welcoming patrons, taking their coats and help us clean the main room. Bertholdt, this is Hanji, and the grumpy guy here is Levi.”  
“G-Glad to meet you”, Bertholdt stuttered. He jolted when Hanji suddenly seized his hands and shook them.  
“Myyyy look at him, so cute, so flustered, so precious! Reiner, this is a gem!”  
“Step back, Four-Eyes, you’re frightening the new guy”, Levi growled. “Don’t mind Hanji. They’re a bit eccentric, but she’s a real pro and somehow, she manages to control herself in front of clients.”

Reiner laughed.

“That’s true. And Levi here has a foul mouth but stays polite with patrons. As much as he can, that is to say. And somehow he is still the favorite.”

Bertholdt looked at him, surprised. This small guy? The favorite? Were people mad? He barely reached his stomach and people were fond of him? He looked closer. Sure, the guy looked like he had muscles and not just to show-off, and his face had delicate features, but…

“What is it, _Bertholdt?_ Am I not tall enough to your liking?”

Suddenly, Bertholdt knew _why_. This guy gave off power, something that made you willing to submit and obey him, everything just to hear him praise you. Levi smirked and everything was back to normal. Reiner frowned.

“Now, stop intimidating him, both of you!  
“Don’t use your paternalistic tone with us, Reiner. It doesn’t work.”  
“Now, what is happening here?” a new voice rang as the door opened.

Bertholdt looked: a tall guy was standing in the doorframe, taking off is fedora to reveal slicked back blond hair and shining blue eyes. He was imposing, with sharp features and a deep voice. Still, there was something gentle about him – maybe in his eyes, or in the way he stood, he didn’t know – and comforting.

“Erwin”, Reiner welcomed him. “They are traumatizing our new guy. He will end up thinking everyone involved in BDSM is either creepy or mad and I don’t want that.”

Erwin smiled and Bertholdt shivered. _Well, that’s the creepiest thing I’ve seen today_ , he thought as he stared back, a bead of cold sweat trailing down his spine. The blond man – he was somewhere in his thirties, both juvenile and mature – stepped forward and held out his hand.

“I’m Erwin Smith”, he said, his voice a low rumble, “photograph for most of people.”

Bertholdt’s trembling hand reached out and grabbed his. The blond man stepped back and took off his long coat, revealing a black military uniform with gilded buttons and shining buttons. Bertholdt’s eyes widened and he coughed, earning a mischievous smile from Reiner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, don't hesitate to comment and tell me what you thought about it!


	3. Chapter 3

“Now what are you waiting for, everyone? The place won’t set itself alone. Off we go!” he said, freeing the access to the main room.  
“Can you please take this to the restroom?” Erwin asked Bertholdt, handing him his coat and hat.  
“Of course”, the brunet answered, nodding along.  
“Thank you”, the blond male said, offering a charming smile. Now that was something different. Bertholdt shook his head as everyone headed off to work. He was tidying the closet when the door opened on a tall, muscular blond man with hair falling in front of his eyes and something that looked like a goatee. He reminded him of a drenched puppy, though he wasn’t wet. The man smiled and took off his coat: he wore a light blue shirt and grey trousers, with a black bow tie.  
“I guess you’re new here”, he said with a voice softer than Bertholdt had expected. “I’m Mike, I work here as well.”  
“Nice to meet you, Mike”, Bertholdt said with a warm smile – finally someone that didn’t frighten him, though he was tall and broad.  
“I suppose the others are already working?”  
“Yes, they are in the main room I believe.”

Mike nodded and strode to the place where he could hear voices, finding work almost finished already. Finally, when the dungeon opened at eight, everything was ready and the first patrons started to arrive. Bertholdt took his job very seriously, smiling and taking their stuff as they headed farther into the dungeon. He could hear voices and very light classical music, creating a nice atmosphere that helped him relax. When they closed at midnight, he suddenly felt the weight of the four hour spent standing falling on him, and his knees buckled.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked worriedly.

He turned around and smiled to Mike.

“Yes, thank you. It’s just… I usually work sitting, or I walked a lot, so standing like this is very tiring and it surprised me.”

The man nodded, and tilted his head.

“Want me to rub your feet?”

Bertholdt jolted and blushed, reflexively stepping back.

“Wha- No, no, thank you, I’ll be alright!”

They heard a snicker and Levi came in, slowly swaying his hips – _what?_ He walked up to them and looked up to Mike.

“No one told you? The boy is green, no experience whatsoever, and you go here offering to rub his feet? Look, he is as red as a fucking lobster!”

Mike’s eyes widened and he looked at Bertholdt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The lanky man vividly shook his head.

“It’s okay, I was just surprised, that’s all.”  
“Beeeert!” they heard, and a second later, without understanding how, Bertholdt was holding Hanji in his arms. “I can call you Bert, right? How did your evening go, darling? You’re not traumatized, are you?”

Feeling her womanly body pressed against his, he blushed even harder and the two other men burst out laughing, their hysterical colleague clinging to the poor guy in front of them. Gently, he pushed her away, his breathing ragged, trying to collect his thoughts.

“ _Oh là là_ , you look like you’re about to burst!” Hanji said with a grin.

She took off her lab coat, went into the break room and came back a few minutes later, wearing large jeans and a white shirt with a leather jacket, her hair once more tied up on her skull.

“Alright, I want to go home and take a nice shower so hurry up, my darlings”, she said, clapping her hands.  
“What do you think you’re doing, ordering us around?” Levi growled, though he smirked. “Bertholdt, get me the cleaning supplies”, he added in an authoritative tone.  
“R-Right away, Sir!” Bertholdt answered, stepping on his own feet.  
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Erwin said as he entered the room, holding Bertholdt back as he stared at Levi. “Don’t go bossing him around, Levi. And you, don’t just say “Aye” to his every word or he’ll make you work to death.”  
“I’m not like that”, Levi protested, taking off his cravat.  
“Noooo you’re not, you just want everything to be sparkling clean in the next few minutes after we close” Erwin replied, with the hint of a laugh in his voice. “Bert, if you hold your life dear, don’t go anywhere near this shrimp”, he added, pointing out Levi with his chin.  
“ _Shrimp?_ ”  
“Erwin is a dead man”, Mike stated plainly, smiling joyfully.  
“There will be no corpses in my workplace”, Reiner growled, rubbing his nape with a tired hand and stretching as he yawned. “If you wish to kill each other, please wait after work hours and do it outside.”  
“I take you on this, Erwin”, Levi growled – Bertholdt would not have called it playful seeing his face and hearing his voice, but the others burst out laughing.  
“The Commander Handsome versus Humanity’s Strongest? Tough match, you should wait so we can place bets on your lives”, Mike said.

Both the men snapped their head to him.

“Don’t call me that”, they grumbled in unison, which made the others laugh even more.

Reiner looped his arm around Bertholdt’s shoulders with a smile and whispered:

“See? They are really cool, I hope you will get along with them.”

The dark-haired man nodded slowly.

“They seem to be really nice people, and I look forward to work with all of you.”  
“I’m glad to hear that”, Reiner said with a smile. “I’ll take you home once we finish tidying up everything.”

They worked surprisingly fast, and he discovered that Erwin, Levi and Hanji were particularly laid back when it came to something other than their work. Mike was a quiet man, who seemed particularly burdened now that he was getting out of his particular head-space. He realized all of them adopted a particular behaviour, that remained here. There was a pleasant, cheerful atmosphere around them and he knew instinctively working with them would be agreeable. Perhaps not quite what he had been waiting for, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t good.

He climbed into Reiner’s car around one a.m., totally exhausted. The blond man smiled.

“You look like you will be sleeping anytime soon. I hope we didn’t stress you too much.”

Bertholdt shook his head.

“It’s not something I’m used to but… there is a good atmosphere. It’s obvious there is a good ambiance in your team, and, well, I’m glad you offered me the job event though I’m absolutely not qualified and a total beginner.”  
“I will rely on your good work from now on”, Reiner said as he started the car. “You worked really well today and I trust you to continue this way.”

He bid him a good night as Bertholdt climbed up to his apartment. Marco wasn’t sleeping yet, waiting for him to get home.

“How was it?” the young man asked immediately.  
“Good. I’m already sleeping”, Bertholdt answered with a smile.  
“You’ll tell me tomorrow, then”, Marco said, laying in bed. “Good night.”  
“Night”, Bertholdt muttered as he entered the bathroom.

He fell asleep as soon as he put his head on the pillow.

Unusually, Marco woke up first. He looked beside him: his brother was, once more, sleeping in an artistic position, sitting against the wall with his back on the bed. He was freezing since he was outside the covers, and Marco gently laid him back normally, pulling the covers up. He looked so serene when he was sleeping – the young man wondered how long it had been since he last saw him this relaxed. He realized with a pain in his heart it was before their parents’ death. He sat up, slipped on a warm sweater with a big “I love Paris” written on it and went to the kitchenette. Since he was up, he was going to prepare a nice breakfast for the both of them. Bertholdt took afternoon classes, so he could sleep, but he himself needed to get ready for Uni.

He was finishing preparing the food when Bertholdt groaned and woke up. An arm over his eyes, he mumbled:

“It smells good.”

He somehow managed to pull himself out of bed, sliding a very large grey woollen jacket over his lanky body and scratching his head. He kissed his brother’s hair and sat on a stool beside him, slowly humming an old song – an Irish ballad their mother always sang. Marco stopped working and slowly turned to look at him with wide eyes.

“You’re singing”, he whispered like he couldn’t actually believe it.

Bertholdt flashed him a smile and hummed louder, slowly starting to murmur the lyrics as they came back to him, and Marco finally joined him, laughing at his voice still raspy with sleep. Marco served breakfast and, as Bertholdt wolfed it down, finally asked:

“Do you like your work?”

Bertholdt nodded.

“The team is really nice. I don’t work around them that much but they create a good atmosphere. Well, they are a bit strange but it’s actually a good kind of strange.”  
“I’m glad. Knowing you’re working in that state of mind… it’s good.”

The oldest of them ruffled the other’s hair and smiled.

“You don’t have to worry for me, Marco. I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

Marco was about to retort when his phone buzzed, and he looked at it, smiling as he read through the message.

“What is it?”  
“Jean will be picking me up now, since he has to go by this street to go to Uni.”  
“Wouldn’t the metro be faster than a car?”  
“He has a motorbike, not a car”, Marco stated as he went to put on his shoes. “Don’t worry, I watched him drive before agreeing to this. He is very careful, especially if he has someone with him.”  
“I trust you”, Bertholdt said with a smile. “Still, be careful.”

Marco went out and Bertholdt stretched sluggishly. Things had been grim, but right now, everything looked so much better. He knew everything would be alright. Sipping his coffee, he finally started to relax. Yes, everything would be alright.

 

A month passed in a blink. Bertholdt adjusted to his work, taking his time to relax around his co-worker who did their best not to embarrass him. He appreciated the joyous atmosphere around them, they were laid back and didn’t worry themselves with futilities – well, he felt something was different with Mike, but he was considerate enough not to pry in his life when obviously, the dungeon was the man’s safe haven. Still, he never entered the main room when patrons were there, and had never seen the rooms around. He couldn’t say he knew more about BDSM now than when he had started working to _The Thorns and the Roses_ , but he knew from what he saw that people implicated in this lifestyle were mostly normal – well, Hanji was a bit eccentric but it seemed like it was more due to her personality than to that. Reiner was surprisingly very gentle in everything he did, taking care of his employees and treating them more as friends than as underlings. Marco still didn’t know about the particularities of his brother’s work, but it was not something Bertholdt was willing to share yet.

Plus, the young artist was doing very well with his new life as a student rather than a high-schooler, and getting closer and closer to Jean. They were different, but with the same love for art and similar tastes. Bertholdt could only be pleased with the idea that his little brother getting close to someone other than him. Marco was gentle and sweet, but the loss of their parents had taken him away from the ones he called friends. Now that things were getting better, he felt the need to be with people his age, and Jean was the perfect fit. Only now, both of them realized how much they had isolated themselves – now that they were learning once more how to get close to people, how to become _friends_. It was a long process, but it was pleasant – not without difficulties, but you were two to get over them. Their wounds needed time to heal, but friends were sure an appeasing balm.

“Have a good night”, Marco said from over his sketch as Bertholdt went to work.

When he arrived, Levi and Erwin were already there, sitting in the break room and discussing something with stern looks. Erwin looked up when he entered, and from his body language, the lanky brunet understood he was not welcomed there right now. Seeing how Levi’s eyes and nose were red, it was not difficult to know he had been crying not long ago and was currently taking some comfort from his blond friend. Bertholdt was not someone intrusive, he backed away and started his work. Reiner arrived and headed straight to the break room with a worried face. Bertholdt heard him talk briefly with the small man, without being able to make out his words – until they spoke a bit louder.

“Do you want to take the day off? I’d understand…”  
“No”, the brunet answered softly but firmly, “I’d be alone at home and it would be worse. I need something to distract me and I like it here, so let me work.”  
“Alright”, Reiner said. “If you need anything, just ask.”

He went out, sighed and smiled sadly to Bertholdt.

“Don’t look this worried. Everyone has love troubles and Levi is no exception. He will get better, he just need time.”

Bertholdt nodded, and couldn’t help but ask:

“And you? Have you ever…”  
“Oh yes. It’s not agreeable, but you get over it eventually”, Reiner answered. “Dwelling on it doesn’t change a thing, you have to move forward.”  
“Yes, I know that much”, Bertholdt replied.

They started to work. Bertholdt decided to take a break and entered the room. Levi was sitting on a stool, holding a warm cup of tea. The lanky brunet started to back away, but the small man’s voice rang through the room.

“Do you fear me that much?”  
“I didn’t mean to disturb you”, Bertholdt replied, stepping closer and sitting on another stool beside him.

Levi put down his cup.

“It’s alright. ‘m just feeling down, it happens. Will get better, eventually.”

Bertholdt hesitated a few seconds, before dropping to his knees and hugging the brunet. Levi’s eyes widened.

“Wha- What are you doing?”  
“Hugging you. I do this with my brother when he is feeling down and it comforts him. I thought maybe I could do this for you. Sorry if I overstepped your boundaries.”

Levi clenched his fists into the fabric of Bertholdt’s shirt, comforted by the warmth of another body held close to his. He fought back the tears, allowing himself to take what his new friend offered to him, and murmured a strangled “thank you” before pulling back. Bertholdt smiled.

“I’ll go back now, you should rest a bit more”, he said before getting out.

He might not be part of their world, but he still knew how to comfort a friend. Levi didn’t exactly look like the kind who would love to be hugged – and perhaps he was now missing it. Resuming his work, he bid goodbye to customers with a warm smile. When he got back, Marco still wasn’t sleeping: he was sketching hands and faces while on the phone. Bertholdt frowned: on the phone at one in the morning? That wasn’t being reasonable. Marco shrugged with a smile that meant “sorry” and resumed his conversation.

“No, no, I know what you mean, but I don’t think cerulean blue is a good idea.”

It went on like this, two artistic minds confronting each other and bettering themselves through the process, until Bertholdt exited the bathroom and climbed in bed.

“My brother is back, I’ll hang off. Sweet dreams, Jean.”  
“What, you speak with your friends this late?” Bertholdt said with a smile.  
“Jean talks a lot”, he replied with a smile. “I kind of like it.”  
“What, talkative people?” his brother said, genuinely surprised – Marco was gentle but usually quiet.  
“No, Jean talking. He says interesting things. And he has a nice voice.”

Bertholdt smiled wryly and wriggled his eyebrows, earning a laugh.

“It’s not like that, Bert”, Marco protested – still, he was blushing. “I’m an artist, remember?”  
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Still, I want to know everything, okay?”  
“Told you, there’s nothing!” Marco said, pushing him off the bed with his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bertholdt hugging Levi sounds really weird.  
> Anyway, as usual, don't hesitate to comment and everything!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean finally shows a bit more of who he is to Marco, and Bert... is getting curious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene between Jean and Marco was supposed to be happy but I guess I got wrapped up in my own feelings. I actually wondered why I had done this, but it's definitely better for Jean's development in the story.  
> Also, I'd like you to be aware that Jean definitely doesn't acknowledge his homosexuality (at least not yet ;) ) so if you feel uncomfortable with that, you might want to skip the scene and go straight to Bert's part.

Time went by and they saw Christmas come and go, and before long a new year had started. Marco stopped by the class where he was supposed to meet Jean: the young man was already there, melting different colours on his palette. His two-toned hair was all ruffled, paint all over his hands and arms, his checked shirt hanging loosely around his thin and sharp figure. His tight blue jeans underlined his muscles and Marco stopped for a second, admiring the work of art he was rather than the one he was creating.

“What are you doing?” Jean asked from over his shoulder. “Come in and get to work!”  
“Sorry”, the brunet said, stepping closer, “didn’t you mean to use violet here?”  
“Nope”, Jean replied, “you’ll see it after.”

They worked in silence a few minutes, and Jean snuck behind Marco to see what he was doing. He looked over his shoulder for a moment, and finally said:

“Am I getting ahead of myself or are these my hands?”

Marco jumped and turned around to look at him.

“You scared me”, he scolded him. “Yes, I drew your hands. They are artistically appealing. Plus, they suit the subject, don’t they?”

Jean blushed slightly and looked away.

“You are lucky you have the idea to draw people. I regret I didn’t think about it earlier. I would have drawn my ex-girlfriend and her adoptive brother.”

Marco tilted his head, swiping his hand on a rag and sitting on a stained stool.

“They were that beautiful?”  
“God yes, they were living works of art”, Jean replied, sitting beside him. “She was half-Japanese, with this amazing black hair, and those eyes… Those eyes… It was like liquid ink, and her pale skin. She was just so… perfect.” He closed his eyes a few seconds, and resumed: “I never deserved her. I don’t think anyone does. But I surely didn’t. I don’t even know how she could love a jerk like me, and all I did was make her suffer.”

Marco didn’t say a word. He could tell it was not all Jean wanted to say. If he remained silent enough, perhaps he would pour out his heart and tell him everything that was on his mind. Jean clenched his fist.

“I’m despicable, aren’t I? Everything happened because of this damn Eren… That smooth bastard, if he hadn’t been there, I would still be with her! But no, no, he had to be there, all sparkling and smiling and _goddamn perfect_. Mister I-break-hearts, didn’t even realize he was hurting her…”

The young artist was now chewing on his lips, trying to take away his frustration. Marco bent and looked at him.

“You loved her, didn’t you?”  
“Of course I did”, Jean practically yelled, too caught up in his memories to realize what he was saying. “Of course I did…”  
“Then why did you break up with her, if she was so perfect?”  
“Because I’m a bastard who couldn’t like her the way she deserved it, because though I loved her, she was not _the only one_ ”, Jean seethed between his teeth.  
“You cheated on her?” Marco asked in disbelief – Jean was not the kind of man to cheat on someone he liked so much, no.  
“Yes! No… I don’t know.” Jean breathed in deeply, trying to calm down. “I was not supposed to feel this. I was not supposed to look at her brother like he was the one I liked and not her. What the _fuck_ is wrong with me?”

Marco frowned. Jean looked like he was finally letting out years of frustration and it was worrying.

“Nothing is wrong with you, man. If you are more into guys, why the hell didn’t you ask him out? If she was so perfect, she would’ve understand. She would have known that it was not her fault. Do you know how destructive it can be to wonder what you did wrong and never knowing the actual answer?”

Jean jolted and stared at him with bulging eyes.

“I am not _gay_ ”, he cried out, though with more fear than actual anger, “why would I be into dudes anyway?”

Marco patted his head soothingly.

“It’s okay. There is nothing wrong with that anyway. I mean, who cares for who you like and who you fuck? I sure don’t. Would it bother you that much?”

Jean was shaking, his fingernails digging red crescent into his palms.

“I. Am. Not. Gay.”  
“Okay, okay, you’re not gay, I understood. Then, what was the problem with Mikasa?”

Jean gritted his teeth. The only problem there had been was called Eren and the fact that Jean had fallen for this smooth fucker – fallen _hard_. Once he had realized it, things had been awkward. At the same time, Mikasa had been willing to go further in their relationship, and he had panicked. He had panicked because as much as he loved her, as much as he found her beautiful, he popped awkward boners when Eren was around – when he leaned on him because he had drunk a bit too much, when he laughed at some horrible pun, when- and the face that came to his mind when someone told him about love wasn’t Mikasa’s: it was Eren’s.

“There was no problem with Mikasa, told you.”

Marco kneeled and looked at him – brown, gold-sparkling, earnest eyes.

“Jean. I consider you my friend. I told you a lot about me, because I trust you. You know I keep secrets better than anyone.”  
“I know.” Jean averted his eyes. “But I can’t.”  
“Why is that?”  
“I don’t want to fall again”, Jean whispered. “If I live like it never happened, like I am exactly who my family wants me to be, I will not fall again, will I? If you believe in a lie, it can become the truth, can’t it?”

A shadow fell on Marco’s delicate features.

“You’re right. But will it make you happy?”  
“It’s not about happiness. It’s about fitting in the mould. I have to be what they want me to be. Being an artist is bad enough. Being an artist who dated a foreign girl is worse. I can’t be the artist who dated a foreign girl and fucked guys. I can’t. There is no future for me this way.”  
“Jean, you…”  
“I know who I have to be and where I have to go. Isn’t it enough?” Jean stood up, awfully cold and pale. “I will follow the path written for me. There is no other way.”

With this, he stormed out of the room, leaving Marco alone, still holding out a hand. _I’m so fucking sorry_ , he wanted to say. He didn’t. Touching his cheek, he realized he was crying. Swiftly, he wiped his tears. There was no way he could let things like this. Not when Jean was his only friend. Not when seeing him like this hurt so much. Making up his mind, he stood up and ran after him. He caught up to him as he was exiting the building, grabbed his shoulder and flipped him around.

“Listen to me, Jean. I will not tell you what’s best, nor what you should do. But don’t run away from me. Don’t turn your back on me. I can’t-” He choked on a sob, panting. “I can’t lose you as well. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I can’t. Please just… Just trust me, okay? Let me be your friend, let me be someone who will never judge you, let me be someone you can tell everything to, let me guard your secrets, and help you bear your burden. Let me be there for you.”  
“Why would you do that?” Jean bubbled. “Why would you…”  
“Because I’m your friend”, Marco answered, “and that’s what friends do.”

Jean stopped, looked at him for a moment and closed his eyes.

“Okay. Okay, you will be my friend, and I will be yours.”  
“Thank you, Jean”, Marco replied with a smile.

_He’s shining_ , Jean thought as he looked at him. He smiled softly. _And I want to see him smile as well_. They got back to the classroom and resumed working, in a brand new, strange atmosphere – more relaxed, but still on the breach, as if everything could go down in a few seconds. It was already quite late when Marco headed home, and Bertholdt was going to work just as he arrived. His brother smiled.

“There are some spaghetti if you want. I already ate, don’t wait for me.”

Marco nodded, and Bertholdt tilted his head.

“What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing”, Marco replied, cursing his brother for being so sharp.  
“Don’t lie to me, Marco, I can see something is wrong.”  
“It’s alright, it was nothing”, Marco insisted, shaking his head.  
“Don’t keep everything to yourself”, Bertholdt said in a soft voice before striding to the metro.

_I won’t_ , Marco replied mentally. _Not anymore_. His brother quickly disappeared in the crowd and he went home.

 

When Bertholdt arrived to _The Thorns and the Roses_ , everyone was already there. He had taken is marks by now and interacted easily with everyone, sensing friendship growing steadily. He felt closer to Reiner, probably because he was the closest in age, but also because the blond man was his solar opposite. He was laid-back and cheerful where Bertholdt was serious, shy and anxious. He talked big, but was gentle and took care of the people surrounding him, though sometimes he was a bit blind to these same persons.

If he wanted to be totally honest with himself, he would have said they were close because Reiner made it so. Always asking him how he felt, pouring him a drink, joking with him, exchanging cooking tips – this had been a surprised but Marco had been more than happy to eat _good_ food rather than a strange attempt to cooking – and always pushing him to give the better of himself without putting too much strain on him. He was a man who knew how the people around him thought, who cared for them and acted accordingly.

“My God, Levi, aren’t you… smaller than usual?” Bertholdt asked after he had bumped into the raven-haired man in the break room.  
“You idiot”, Levi growled as he stood up, “can’t you tell I was on all fours?”

He was holding a sponge and rubbing the floor forcefully. Bertholdt chuckled and cowered.

“Sorry, do you need help?”

Levi sighed and looked up.

“There already are clients, Bertholdt. I don’t think you can be of any help here.”

Bertholdt hesitated a few seconds, and nodded.

“It’s okay. Tell me how I can help, I’m not _that_ fragile. I won’t make a fuss, and I won’t stare, let me help you.”

Levi stared at him, then groaned.

“Alright. Help me up, then.” 

He held out a hand and the lanky young man helped him stand up.

“You sure?”  
“I told you, I’m not that fragile.”  
“If you freak out, Erwin will kill me.”  
“I won’t freak out.”  
“Then follow me.”

Bertholdt entered the main room, nervous despite his promise, but no one paid attention to him. Mike was explaining something to a middle-aged woman, moving his hands around, very expressive and so different from his usual-self that Bertholdt almost stared. He quickly looked somewhere else, two women were sitting on a sofa, sipping a drink as they watched the people around them. He averted his eyes once more and followed the sharp and small figure of Levi to the storeroom.

“I need to give something to Hanji, you will check on with Erwin, see if he needs anything. Mike is obviously busy, which is why I can’t ask him. We’re always short on people when Reiner’s not around.”  
“Okay. Where do I find him?”  
“Second door on the right.”  
“Okay, then I’m go-”  
“Bertholdt”, Levi interrupted him in a sharp voice. “If you feel uncomfortable, you abort the mission and retreat to the cloakroom, okay?”  
“O-kay?” Bertholdt answered, unsure about how to reply to Levi unusual stern tone.  
“It’s not a joke. I don’t want you to go over your limits. Who knows what he might be doing in there.”  
“That’s not really reassuring, Levi”, Bertholdt answered with a trembling laugh.  
“It was not meant to be”, the small man growled as he picked up a heavy cardboard box.

Bertholdt plastered his smile on his face and, going back to the main room, walked on auto-pilot to the second door. He knocked, heard no answer and entered.

“Sorry this room is not acces-” Erwin started, before realizing who was standing in the doorway. “Bertholdt? What are you doing here?”  
“I’m helping”, Bertholdt replied as he closed the door, trying to calm his thumping heart before turning around. “Do you need any-”

He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Erwin. The blond man was holding a riding crop, broken in two halves, his aura commanding and powerful. As for the room, it was absolutely not what Bertholdt would have expected, if he had been expecting something. The St-Andrew’s Cross – which name he didn’t know – wasn’t something he was ready for. Not yet.

“Actually, I was making sure everything was in a perfect shape and my riding-crop broke, so can you add it to the list on Reiner’s desk, please?”

He nodded slowly, his gaze wandering around – not understanding everything, but understanding enough to _feel_ it.

“Bert. Are you alright?”  
“Sorry, what?” he said, shaking himself.  
“Are you alright? You were not supposed to come here…”  
“I’m alright. I guess it’s just… It’s not what I expected, that’s all. Do you need anything else?”  
“If that’s alright with you, maybe you can take on some work more. It will go faster to clean everything if you can help. If you can’t, that’s okay.”  
“I-I’ll tell you, alright? I just need… A moment”, he stuttered before stepping out and striding to Reiner’s study.

He entered it and collapsed into the armchair, breathing deeply. Nothing could have prepared him for that, no. After a moment, he pulled himself together and noted down what Erwin had told him. His mind wandered. He would be lying if he said that _right now_ , he wasn’t curious. But he knew better than to act impulsively. He needed to think about it, before actually taking a decision.

“Are you alright? You weren’t coming out of here so I got worried”, he heard a voice say.

He opened his eyes and nodded to Mike. The man walked towards him and leaned forward.

“You sure?”  
“Yes. I was a bit rash, should have been more careful, but it will be alright.”  
“I guess so. It might be… impressive, when you don’t know a thing about it and suddenly walk in on Erwin.” He chuckled and sat down in front of him. “He is astounding when he goes full mode, so I’m not surprised you look so pale.”  
“Actually, he was just… standing in the middle of the room with a broken riding-crop.”

Mike stared at him, and burst out laughing. Bertholdt blushed up to his ears and cast down his eyes, growling a low “Shut up!” more embarrassed than vexed or angry.

“Sorry, it’s just that… You were making such a face, I thought you had seen something like… Well no, better not tell you, but I didn’t expect it to be just Erwin standing in a room.”  
“It’s more… all the things around him. Like the…” He gestured with his hands, blushing even harder. “… you know, the cross.”

Mike nodded knowingly.

“The St-Andrew’s Cross. It’s rather well known, though.”  
“I knew about it, I just didn’t expect to see… the real thing. It’s more that… Erwin asked me if I was alright with helping everyone clean up afterwards, and I have to give him an answer. To be honest, I’m more afraid about making a mistake than about dealing with… everything.”  
“You won’t be alone, someone will teach you how to take care of everything. None of us expects someone as green as you to know how you’re supposed to stock chains or what kind of maintenance a cross of St-Andrew needs. If that’s all you’re afraid of, then you can definitely help us.”  
“And it’s embarrassing”, Bertholdt added, blushing even more.

Mike rose an eyebrow, staring at him.

“You know it’s just maintenance, right? Plus, none of us are children anymore. Think about it, what can be more embarrassing than popping a boner while you’re standing in class as a teenager?”

Bertholdt cringed, and relaxed.

“Well, you’re right. I think I’ll help you all.” He tilted his head, blushing once more. “And I have to admit I am curious, now.”  
“You know the saying, “curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back”. Knowing things is always a good thing, whether you think it is useful or not.”

Bertholdt nodded and stood up.

“We’d better go back to work, we’re already short on hands, we can’t slack off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, don't hesitate to comment, ask, suggest!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly Erwin, Bert, Marco and Jean. A dead drunk Jean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, it will take some time before I update after this one because this is roughly what I wrote during my Camp NaNoWriMo, and I haven't written for this text since then, so... I ask for your patience, my lambs.

They went back to the main room and Bertholdt made his way to the entrance, going back to the cloakroom. He still felt nervous at the idea, sweating as he tried to keep himself in control. Now was no time to bang his head against the counter, and he would deal with his embarrassment towards Erwin later. Slowly, the patrons exited the dungeon, until it was time for them to close.

“Bert, can you pour us some coffee?” he heard Levi ask over a loud rattling.  
“Right away”, he replied, grateful for the little extra-time it gave him to gather his thoughts.

_After all, I’ve been working here for three months, it’d be about time I help everyone and see what Reiner has in there…_ He nearly dropped the two cups of coffee he was holding when he spin on his heels and almost bumped into Erwin. Though the “Commander Handsome” was smaller than him, he was broad and commanding – according to his nickname.

“Calm down, Bert, there is no need to hurry.”  
“Y-yes.”

Erwin smiled – and suddenly took on of the cups, gulping down the coffee. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it, and suddenly he looked so different from the man Bertholdt had seen behind the second door. He was the kind, laid-back, playful man who did the worst dad-jokes ever and cradled knocked-out birds in his hands. How could he be so different? It was beyond his understanding. The cerulean blue eyes stared at him and he couldn’t help but smile. This man was his friend and he could trust him, there was no need to be afraid just because he wore a uniform and looked so severe – so unlikely himself.

“You really should come by my studio at least once, you’d be a great model.”

Bertholdt cocked his head.

“You never talk about your job as a photographer.”  
“I try not to mix everything, though I usually fail miserably. I’ll show you the photos I did for this place one day, if you want to. Otherwise, I have more… well, less kinky photos.”  
“Oooooh yes Erwin, show him the album, show him!” Hanji cried out, taking off her lab-coat. “You’ll see, Bert, his photos are amazing! It is obvious he is a pro!”

The slight blush he saw on Erwin’s cheeks was more than unexpected.

“Keep it quiet, Hanji!” he barked in a voice slightly higher than usual. “Anyway, I think you had enough emotions for today.”

Bertholdt fidgeted, and finally spoke.

“I- I will help you all from now on”, he finally said.

Erwin nodded and smiled.

“Thank you, Bert. Still, I think it will be for another time. You seem exhausted, do your usual work and go home. I would feel bad if you collapsed, you know.”  
“Alright”, Bertholdt answered without resisting. “I’ll do as you said, then.”

It gave him time to prepare his mind, and he definitely needed that. When he came back home, Marco was still awake. He looked worried.

“What’s wrong?” Bertholdt asked immediately, taking off his shoes to sit by his side.  
“I’m just worried about Jean, that’s all. I- I prefer not to talk about it. Not now, at least.”

Bertholdt nodded and ruffled his hair.

“Okay, I understand.”

 

“You really are skilled, Marco”, Jean said with a tinge of jealousy in his voice, “I envy you.”  
“T-Thank you, but your work is very good too. I hope the two will make a great result.”  
“There’s no reason it wouldn’t. I mean, we’re both good artists and we worked hard together.”

Marco nodded. To be fairly honest, he was really proud of his work on Jean’s hands. Even though the model was prettier.

“What do you say about getting a drink? We deserve it, don’t you think?” Jean said.  
“Yes, that’s a good idea. Let me just ring my brother so he doesn’t worry-”  
“Sorry to intrude”, a voice said in the entrance, and they both turned to see who it was. “Wow, you really did a wonderful job.”  
“Bert? What are you doing here?” Marco asked, surprised.  
“Does it bother you? I can go back if you want me to…”  
“No, no, that’s not it, I was just surprised. Well then, since you’re here, this is Jean”, he said, a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Jean, this is my brother, Bertholdt.”

Jean smiled, a bit uneasy, but walked forward and shook Bertholdt’s hand.

“I’m glad to meet you. Marco always speaks about his big brother and how he is such a wonderful person, no need to say I was curious.”  
“Pleasure is mine, I wanted to meet my brother’s friend and here you are! Take good care of him, please”, Bertholdt replied with a smile.

He could see what Marco found attractive in the young man’s demeanor, this something both arrogant and shy, and those feral, wonderful amber eyes.

“Anyway, Marco, I just wanted to check on you and tell you I have an appointment and will probably not be back for diner. I’ll go straight to work.”  
“Oh, okay. Where are you going?”

Bertholdt ran a hand through his hair, blushing slightly.

“I- I was asked to model for photos. One of my colleagues is a professional photographer and he wanted to work with me, so I agreed.”  
“That’s great”, Marco replied with a smile. He turned to Jean: “Then, what do you say about hanging around tonight?”

Jean glanced at Bertholdt and finally replied:

“Okay, that’s alright with me.”  
“I’m going, have a good time you too”, Bertholdt declared, waving his hand as he strode off.

They waited a few seconds, and Jean said:

“Your brother is… different from what I imagined.”  
“How so?” Marco asked, grabbing his coat.  
“Well from what you said I thought he would look… tougher, you know? Like… it doesn’t look like you two went through all those things together, you both smile so much and look so cheerful… Particularly you, you literally shine.”

Marco laughed softly and replied:

“It’s because we went through these difficulties that we are the way we are. We can’t allow ourselves to get depressed, there’s only two of us and if we fall, there is no one to help us up. So we have to be there for each other. And…” Marco sighed, running a hand through his short black hair. “Helping other people, it helps us taking our mind off of our own problems. That’s why Bert loved working at the retirement home.”

Jean nodded.

“You too sure are close. I wonder what it would be like if I had a big brother…”  
“It’s not always easy, but…” Marco stared at him “I would be lonely if he weren’t here.”

Jean smiled softly.

“Now, you’ve got me too. You can rely on me.”

Marco smiled and Jean held his breath – God, how was it humanly possible to be this beautiful? The small dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, his freckles, his beautiful eyes… He shook his head.

“Then, off we go! Do you have somewhere in mind?”  
“Not really”, Marco replied with a laugh, “but I guess we can find something to eat first. I don’t know you, but I’m starving!”

Putting their coats on, they locked the room and went out.

 

Bertholdt found Erwin just where he had told him – in the park, taking photos of the sleeping nature. January was cold this year, and his nose was red. He smiled and took a last photo before turning to him.

“Thank you for accepting my proposition. And I wanted to say… the album Hanji told you about, we have a section reserved to employees. It would be great if we could do some photos of you and as a group to put them in.” Seeing Bertholdt’s worried look, he laughed. “Nothing kinky for you, don’t worry. Just normal photos where you work in your tuxedo, you see?”  
“Oh, okay. Well, as long as Reiner is okay with that, there is no problem.”  
“Great! Now come on, I’m freezing.”

Bertholdt laughed as he nodded – Erwin definitely looked like he was cold - and froze when he heard the shutter of the camera. Erwin laughed.

“I take most photos on the spot. My best ones are of people being natural”, he said, his fingers stroking the camera. “It’s like… capturing a fleeting moment, you know? I seize it but it’s already gone… Ah, sorry, I’m rambling again!”  
“No, no, don’t worry. You look like you’re really... passionate. Taking photos is something dear to you, am I wrong?”  
“You’re right”, Erwin said with a smile. “My father taught me.”

He said nothing more, and Bertholdt didn’t ask. The brunet followed the blond man to his studio where they took off their coat and Erwin poured them warm drinks. Bertholdt looked around, curious, and pointed to the setting.

“Will we do photos here?” he asked.

Erwin nodded, rolled up his pullover’s sleeves and took his camera. Following his demands, Bertholdt took several poses, until it was time for them to set off for work. Erwin looked more relaxed now that he had taken those photos, like this simple act lifted a weigh off his shoulders. They arrived first and resumed their session in the dimmed light of the dungeon, which gave to Bertholdt’s features something a bit mysterious and more seductive.

“Levi started to show you how to take care of the equipment, didn’t he?”

Bertholdt nodded.

“There’s a lot to learn.”  
“Are you getting more comfortable with everything?”  
“To my surprise… yes. Perhaps it is because for most of them, I know how to take care of it but not what it is used for.”

Erwin laughed.

“So much like Levi to teach you how to take care of things but not what they are for. Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you’d be okay to do some photos in there? If you’re not comfortable with it though, it’s totally okay. Just thought it would look good, you’re a great model.”

Bertholdt thought about it for a moment.

“Only if I keep my clothes on, and nothing too sexy.”  
“That’s alright with me. C’mon now”, he said, opening the door to the main room. “You know, BDSM isn’t intricately linked with sex.”

Bertholdt stopped and stared at him.

“It isn’t?”

Erwin shook his head as he moved some cushions from an alcove to one of the scenes in the room.

“Some people can’t have both separate, others only see them as separate, and some decide according to their partners. BDSM is about power-play. Giving it up, or controlling everything, not acting your age, things like that. It may include sexual activities, and it may not. It is your choice. You set the limits. There are only three major rules: safe, sane and consensual. Everything else is your choice.”  
“I… Actually, I never thought about it this way. I thought it was more about… you know, pain and sex altogether.”  
“At some point, it is, yes. For some people. But it’s not all there is to it.”  
“So your BDSM partner isn’t necessarily your romantic or sexual partner?”  
“You’ve understood, yes. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing this job”, he said with a laugh as he dropped a cushion. “Sexual activities aren’t authorized here, you know.”  
“Really?” Bertholdt asked, helping him to transport some cushions more.

Erwin nodded.

“Alright, let’s take some photos more!” he said joyously.

Once more, Bertholdt followed his directives and by the time their colleagues arrived, they were tidying up everything.

“Oh, so you finally took those photos”, Reiner said with a smile as he took off his coat.

The evening went by, with its usual flow of clients, and Bertholdt couldn’t help but feel a rising curiosity as he observed everyone and everything around him. He had thought he knew where he was, but he had been wrong. The idea of power-play was appealing, but certain as he was that sex would be involved, it had rebuked him. In himself, he felt like having sex with someone he didn’t love dearly was somehow wrong. He wouldn’t ever criticize those who decided otherwise, but he knew what he wanted for himself. He realized he had been lost in his thoughts when Levi elbowed him in the ribs.

“What are you doing, staring at those cuffs like that? You don’t remember how you’re supposed to wax the leather or you’re wondering how it would look on you?”

He blushed deeply, though the smaller man was smirking and only teasing him.

“S-Sorry”, he muttered, getting back to work. He looked at Levi who was holding a thing he couldn’t quite identify. “What is it for?”

But the brunet had already put it back where it belonged and was cleaning another item. Bertholdt tilted his head, and started to reflect on the possible use of the things he could see around him. If some where obvious, others weren’t, and though embarrassed, he asked Levi once more. But the small mall was wheezing around, cleaning, putting back, cleaning, putting back, without ever listening to his questions. He sighed heavily.

“What a sigh! What’s the problem, Bert? Getting tired?” Reiner asked behind him.

He jumped and turned back to look at him.

“No, it was… I was…” He sighed once more. “I’m getting quite curious but Levi isn’t answering me.”

The brawny blond man laughed and put his strong arm over his shoulders.

“I’ll explain everything to you and answer your questions if you want”, he declared in a solemn voice.

Bertholdt nodded and he could see Reiner’s golden eyes glimmering with joy, the childish joy of a passionate man.

“Grab a coffee with me tomorrow and we do that, how does it sound?”  
“I have some classes in the afternoon.”  
“Morning, then?”  
“Okay, no problem.”  
“Now go back to work so we can close and all go to bed, I’m exhausted.”

With the six of them cleaning, they quickly finished and went back home. When Bertholdt arrived, Marco still hadn’t returned. He frowned: it wasn’t in his brother’s habits to be out past one in the morning, and though he had nothing to say about it, he was rightfully worried. He hesitated a second between texting him and calling, and finally decided for the latter. His heart was thumping in worry as he heard the ring of his brother’s phone.

“ _Allô?_ ”  
“Marco, what are you doing?”  
“ _Bert? What hour- Oh! I’m sorry Bert, you must be worried, I lost track of time! Didn’t think it was this late!_ ”  
“It’s nothing, I was just worried…” Bertholdt replied with a sigh of relief.  
“ _I’m in a bar with Jean. Actually, he’s… well it looks like he doesn’t hold his liquor and I don’t know where he lives. Do you mind if he stays at home? From what I understood, his parents are quite… severe and wouldn’t be too keen on having him back in his state._ ”  
“Alright. Don’t move then, I’ll come to pick you up. I don’t want you two wandering around if you’re wasted. Meanwhile, try to call his parents and somehow explain the situation.”  
“ _Yeah, you’re right, we’ll be waiting for you. Thank you, Bert._ ”  
“It’s nothing.”  
“ _No, really. You’re the best brother in the world._ ”

Bertholdt couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Alright, tell me where you are, I’m coming.”

It turned out they weren’t that far from home and fifteen minutes later, he was entering the bar. Marco looked fairly well, but Jean… Jean was slumped on the table, mumbling incoherent thoughts. Marco stood up when he saw his brother and started to help Jean put on his coat, scarf and cap.

“I made up something for his parents, but I don’t think they really believed it”, Marco said. “Difficult to be convincing with that idiot repeating “I am not drunk” every time I said something.”

Bertholdt laughed and helped Jean up, hauling him with Marco’s help. They made it to the metro and collapsed in the seats with a breathy laugh. Marco gently laid a hand on Jean’s forehead as the boy moaned, dead drunk. He chuckled.

“He’ll have a severe hangover tomorrow. Luckily, it’s a day off.”  
“And you, are you alright?” Bertholdt asked.  
“It… Could be better. Maybe I drank a bit too much.”  
“I’ll prepare everything for the two of you tomorrow. Maybe a basin for Jean, also.”  
“Wise decision”, Marco said, rubbing his eyes. “Aren’t you tired? You worked hard today as well…”  
“I’m beaten. And I have to meet with Reiner tomorrow morning”, he said with a tired laugh. “I guess I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”

They finally got out of the metro – Jean was snoring softly between them and they laid him on the bed while Marco undressed and Bertholdt readied the mattress for him. Then, Marco took it upon him to undress him with his trembling hands and hazy eyes while Bertholdt put on his pyjamas. And, finally – _finally_ – they switched off the lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, though nothing major happened. Don't hesitate to comment and everything!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bert meets up with Reiner, and Marco gets through an inteteresting experience with Jean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guyyyys I'm sorry it took so long, I'm a bad writer I know... Anyway, here is the update and you shouldn't have to wait too long for the following chapter.  
> I hope my explanations (through Reiner) will be accurate, I'm doing my best but if you have some advice I'll gladly take it!

Waking up on the following morning was easier than Bertholdt would have expected – perhaps because he was eager to meet with Reiner. _Wait. Eager? Calm down you floor lamp, you’ve got no reason to be so eager to meet with Reiner._ He took a quick shower to wake up, prepared some coffee and medicine for the guys snoring more or less softly and readied to leave. Marco opened an eye difficultly and moaned, before pulling the covers over his head. Bertholdt chuckled and closed the door, before setting off to meet Reiner. The blond man was already sitting in the café with a black coffee and a plate of cookies, and he waved to him when he saw him. Bertholdt smiled and walked up to him, pulling the chair and sitting in front of him before asking for a coffee – one wasn’t enough, obviously. Reiner pushed the plate of cookies to him.

“Go on”, he said with a smile.

_Was there always this light in his eyes?_ Bertholdt wondered as he accepted the proposition. He shrugged it off and leaned back in his chair.

“So”, he said as he bit into his cookie. “I’m listening.”

Reiner laughed and sipped his coffee.

“Where shall I start… As Erwin told you, BDSM and sex are not always together. BDSM is based on an idea of power-play. The most known example is the Dominant and Submissive relationship. There are also what we call age-players, people who like to behave in a head-space different from their real age, usually younger for the submissive. Their Dom, usually seen as a parental figure, can be called a “Mommy” or “Daddy”, they provide them what is necessary for them to feel safe and comfortable in their role as a Little. You can also have a Master/Slave relationship. Here, the Master has even more power on his slave than in a more… let’s say “casual” Dom/sub relationship. There only are hard-limits the Master or Mistress cannot cross, while others have a bit more… control other themselves and what they do.”

Bertholdt was staring at him intently, focused on what he was saying.

“So pain isn’t always involved as well?”  
“Not always, no. It is your choice. If you have pleasure through pain, giving it or receiving it, then so be it. You have to know that there are different kind and different level of pain. A flogging isn’t the same thing as clamps. Hot wax is different from fire play.”

Bertholdt nodded, frowning. Reiner chuckled.

“Looks like you’re not much about pain?”  
“Not really, no. I don’t understand why someone would want to hurt or be hurt.”  
“It’s control. It’s always control. The power to give both pain and pleasure for the Dom. The power to somewhat control the pain by deciding what kind, where and when. Some people are really anxious about it, you know. Controlling relieves them.”  
“I understand what you mean, but I definitely would never do something like that. I’m curious about… your role, and everyone else’s.”  
“I’m a Dom”, Reiner replied. “I’m more about sensation-play. A softer kind of BDSM, if you like. Though it’s only a physical point of view, mentally it is very strenuous as well.”  
“I guess both Levi and Erwin are both Dominants as well?”  
“Yes, you’re right. Erwin is charming and coaxes people into submitting to him, he usually uses praises. Levi is by far the most focused on pain and baring you to the core. Not anyone can play with him, and he usually handles the most demanding clients. Hanji is a Dom as well, she mastered medical play, which requires a particularly good handling.”  
“You don’t seem comfortable with it, do you?”

Reiner sighed and smiled.

“Alright. I’m really, really afraid of needles. So… Yeah, I usually stay away from Hanji when she’s about to play.”

Bertholdt laughed heartily.

“I wouldn’t have imagined it!”

Reiner was blushing and scratching his head, and Bertholdt resumed:

“Don’t feel embarrassed! Let’s go on, what about Mike?”  
“Mike is our only Sub. You have to know that professional Subs are rare. BDSM requires an amount of trust not everyone is capable of displaying. I bet you’ve marvelled seeing gymnasts doing complicated figures that asks a total trust in your partner.”  
“Like everyone, I guess. It is always amazing to see they trust someone else with their life.”  
“Well, some BDSM plays asks for just as much trust. I’m thinking about breath-play, for example. The difference is we’re not doing it under the spotlights.”  
“I don’t know if I could trust someone like that”, Bertholdt admitted, thoughtful. “I’m so used to relying only on myself and my capacities to go on, so…”  
“Letting go seems scary?” Reiner said with a smile. “Your reaction is pretty normal, you know. And finding the good partner for you is like finding your romantic partner: it takes time and demands dedication. And it doesn’t stop when you finally find them, you have to keep on having a good communication. Communication is everything. Telling the other what you like, what you don’t like, what frightens you and what appeals you, and what you need.”

Bertholdt nodded. When explained, everything seemed logical.

“How long have you been into BDSM?”

Reiner ran a hand through his blond hair, trying to recall.

“I got interested when I was about nineteen. I already had sexual experience, and, well. At first I was just curious and interested in getting laid. Kinky stuff was just a plus.” He pulled his hands together, staring at them. “But what I learnt of the BDSM lifestyle kind of… struck a chord with me. The idea of power-play, of being in control. I’ve always felt like I didn’t have much control over my life, like everything was slipping between my fingers… Being able to be in control, for once, it was appealing. I had my first scene not so long after that, and it didn’t take long for me to know I wanted to open a dungeon. And two years later, I opened _The Thorns and the Roses_. Experience is important in BDSM, and though I’m experimented, I’m still very young. That’s why I hired older people to work in my dungeon.” He looked up and smiled softly. “Sorry, I’m ranting about my life.”  
“No that’s… pretty interesting, in fact. I really love the way you see things.”  
“Thank you. I’m glad we could talk like this”, Reiner replied while smiling. “Want a lift back home?”

Bertholdt shook his head.

“I have some things to do in town so I’ll just eat on my way and go straight to Uni.”  
“Okay. I’ll go back now; I have some work to do. See you tonight?”  
“As usual”, the lanky brunet replied.

 

Two months passed by in a flash, and soon spring was there, at the door and peeking through Paris. March was still quite cold though, but the sun was shining and flowers were starting to bud, giving an air of renewal to everything. Things had gone on like usual for the two brothers, who were slowly opening up to the world around them – Marco through Jean and Bertholdt through Reiner mostly, with whom he spent at least one morning each week learning BDSM do’s and don’t, as well as different practices and kinks. He finally showed his curiosity and learned things as a consequence, fully adapted to his job in the dungeon and helping out every way he could.

Jean was taking notes of the instructions the professor was giving for their work, Marco scratching paper next to him just as fast, his handwriting usually so neat and curled small and crumpled.

“Now listen closely because this will be your last assignment for this year, that is to be handed over by the end of the month. What we require of you is to put to use everything you learnt this year in a final painting. We studied anatomy since your mid-terms, so it’s an easy guess what we’re asking of you.”

The students stared at him, waiting for him to go on. He sighed and leaned on his desk.

“Anatomy. You have to paint a nude.”

There was a buzz amongst the first-year who had never done nude before. The professor held his hands up.

“Usually, a model would come to pose for you, but we decided to change the rules. You have to find your own model. Seeing hundreds of drawing of the very same person can be quite boring, so we want something different.” He smiled. “Find your muse, guys.”

Marco froze. He already had a muse, and he was sitting right next to them. Slowly, he turned his head to look at Jean, who was very pale.

“How are we supposed to find a nude model? We can’t just go up to someone in the street and ask if we can paint them naked!”  
“I think I might have an idea”, Marco replied with a smile.  
“You do?” Jean said, hopeful.  
“If you’re okay with it, of course. I can be your model, and you’d be mine.”

Jean stared at him, his eyes wide:

“ _What?”_  
“I know it’s a bit awkward and… embarrassing, but I think it would be better than to have to paint a stranger. We already know each other; we’re friends… It would only add something to the painting, don’t you think?”

Jean reddened and hid his face with his hands.

“This is really, really embarrassing, you know?” He sighed. “But I have to admit you’re probably right.” He averted his eyes. “I heard that when dealing with nude models, all aspect of awkwardness and sexual tension disappears while you paint. The body becomes an object of art.” He stared at his hands. “Seeing how beautifully you drew my hands, I’m really curious about a nude.”

Marco smiled.

“So that is a yes. I’ll ask the professor if we can have a room to paint, otherwise it might be a bit complicated.”

Jean chuckled.

“Ah yes not awkward at all if we were to rent an hotel room several times week to paint nudes of each other”, he declared, though his voice was bit shaky.

Marco laughed as he walked up to the professor, coming back soon with a key. Jean grinned: Marco was the serious student everyone trusted, of course he would be allowed to have a room to paint.

“We have a classroom. I think what we can do is meet up there every day after class to work on our paintings, what do you think?”

Jean nodded.

“I’ll let my parents know I’ll work at Uni then.”  
“And I’ll warn Bert.”  
“How about we start tomorrow?” Jean asked, fidgeting.  
“Sounds good. Anyway, let’s go or we’ll be late to our following class”, the freckled boy said, gathering his effects.

When Marco got home, Bertholdt was still there, cooking as he hummed joyously.

“Bert?” he asked as he took off his shoes. “Don’t you have work?”  
“Reiner gave us our day”, he answered, “though it was not planned. There was a power cut and from what he was told, it would take about the whole night to have power again.”  
“Oh, okay.” He smiled. “It’s kind of sad for his business but I’m glad you’re here tonight.”  
“Has something happen?” Bertholdt asked, dishing out and sitting on their bed.  
“Nothing bad, I’m just… nervous, I guess.”

Bertholdt patted the quilt next to him and Marco sat, sighing.

“We were given a new assignment today. We have to hand over a nude.” He paused, and resumed: “And we have to find the model by ourselves.”  
“I know a few people who I think would pose for you if you asked”, Bertholdt said, concerned.  
“No, no, I already have a model. Actually… I ended up asking Jean if he could be my model, and I could be his”, Marco said, blushing all the way up to his ears.

Bertholdt cracked a smile.

“If that’s not a crush I don’t know what it is”, he teased his little brother. “More seriously, I understand how embarrassing it could be but you have no reason to be shy about your body. I assume Jean is just as nervous as you are, more perhaps.”  
“I suppose so. Anyway, we’re starting tomorrow and we’ll work on it every afternoon and evening after class.”  
“Okay. Anyway, if you ever have a problem you know you just have to call, right?”  
“Yes, of course I know that”, Marco answered with a smile. He then dug in his plate. “That’s really good! You improved a lot!”  
“Thank you. Reiner’s advice are very useful”, he said, eating as well.  
“You know”, Marco started, fidgeting a bit, “you really changed since you started working there. You smile more, you are less embarrassed and you just seem more… easy-going.”

Bertholdt froze, and smiled:

“Thank you?” He sighed. “I guess I should tell you. I didn’t want to tell you where I worked at first because I didn’t want to get you involved, but I’ve learned a lot lately.”  
“You’re not doing anything illegal, right?” Marco said in a worried tone.  
“Don’t worry, I’m on the side of the law”, Bertholdt chuckled. “The place where I work is a BDSM dungeon.”

Marco was staring at him, his mouth gaping open. Well, that was an understandable reaction, Bertholdt thought.

“You? Working in a BDSM dungeon? How did this happen? Are you sure you’re my too-shy-to-ask-for-help brother?”

Bertholdt laughed and nodded.

“I was really wary at first, but everyone is really nice and normal, people are very polite and careful not to embarrass others, and you know how much I love my co-workers.”  
“I’m not saying you’ve done something you shouldn’t have, you know”, Marco answered. “I’m just… really, _really_ surprised. And so Reiner is the owner, I guess?”  
“Yes”, Bertholdt answered. “He’s really kind and easy to talk to.”  
“It looked like it when you spoke about work, yes”, the freckled boy said. “Man. A BDSM dungeon. I would never have guessed.” He peeked through his eyelashes and asked: “Are you having a crush over your boss, Bert?”

Bertholdt choked and blushed, twirling his thumbs as he tried to come up with an answer.

“I- I don’t really know, it’s just that… he’s good-looking, you know? And really kind and gentle, and smart, funny and caring…”

Marco laughed.

“I knew it! You definitely have a crush on him. Plus you’ve described thoroughly all your co-workers but never your boss.” He nudged Bertholdt elbow. “Tell me how he is. I want to know everything.”

Bertholdt bit his lip but nodded anyway.

“He has really short blond hair-”  
“Shorter than you?” Marco interrupted.  
“Yes, shorter than me, and broad shoulders. And he’s brawny like… you know, the really strong type of brawny, not the I-m-only-showing-off type.” He smiled a bit. “And he’s tall, about as tall as you, maybe a bit taller. He has golden eyes and a square jaw-”  
“Oh my God you totally have a crush”, Marco laughed. “I was just teasing but you really do have a crush on him!”

Bertholdt’s face was really, really red this time as he grabbed a pillow.

“Shut up you spawn of evil!” he growled playfully, smacking his brother in the face with the pillow.

Marco collapsed backwards, his hands clawing at his stomach as he laughed breathlessly. Bertholdt started to tickle him and the young man writhed on the bed, trying to get away, crying in laughter and still unable to stop.

“Please, please Bert, stop, I can’t- I take back what I said, okay? I take it back; I take it back…”

Bertholdt stopped and Marco smirked.

“You still totally have a crush on your boss.”

 

The following day went by quickly – too quickly perhaps, because Marco was now standing in front of the classroom's door, Jean behind him hauling their stuff so they could get settled in there, and his hand was trembling really hard as he tried to put the key in. Finally, the door gave in and they entered, closing behind them and locking again. Jean stared at Marco as he put the key on a nearby desk.

“Oh”, the young man said, “I thought it’d be better to lock since I’m not too keen on having someone walking in while I’m naked and I thought it would be the same for you.”  
“Oh right”, Jean replied, “I hadn’t thought of that.”  
“Good I think for both of us then”, Marco replied with a smile. “Let’s get everything ready. Do you want to draw first or do you prefer I do?”  
“I- I’ll draw first, if you don’t mind”, Jean stuttered.  
“Not at all”, Marco shook his head.

They readied all their things, pushing the desks against the walls and piling up cushions in the middle of the room – they had agreed on some kind of background made of comfortable blankets, pillows and cushions, not willing to strain themselves while posing. Finally, everything was set up. They even had a screen they had decided to use both for the background and some kind of modesty.

“Okay, I’ll get ready then”, Marco said, disappearing behind the screen.

Truthfully, Jean did his best not to look. He really did his best. But the light was catching Marco’s figure behind the screen as he took off his clothes, and there was something really sensual in the roll of his shoulders and the playful sway of his hips as he stepped out of his boxers. And Jean suddenly realized he had just sketched his best friend getting naked behind a screen. He quickly turned the page, huffing in annoyance at his own reactions. This was going to be difficult – more than he thought at first.

And then, Marco appeared. Jean’s eyes widened because who would have thought his best friend was so good looking, with broad shoulders and a muscular torso, and _damn_ those thighs…

“-ean. Jean. Jean!”

Suddenly he realized someone was calling his name. Marco was calling his name.

“Dude, you really were out for a moment. Have you thought of some poses?”

Jean blushed but didn’t answer.

“You did”, Marco stated, smiling gently. “C’mon, no need to be bashful with me, okay? This is art. This is an assignment. I’m your model, and your inspiration, so just ask for what you want.” He smirked. “Or else I’ll just take the most embarrassing poses ever and watch you become the brightest red on Earth.”

Jean wasn’t answering. In fact, his mind had totally blacked-out when Marco had said “embarrassing poses”, imagining how good Marco would look like that and _the hell did it come from?_ When he looked up again, Marco was in the middle of cushions, moving around and trying poses, and suddenly…

“STOP!” Jean cried out, quickly putting his hands to his mouth when he realized he did blurt it out.

Marco was frozen in place, not daring to move an inch.

“What is it?”  
“The… Your position is just perfect”, Jean admitted. “I want to paint this one.”  
“Oh”, Marco said, blushing.

Jean immediately started sketching, and Marco didn’t move, though his muscles were burning. He was kneeling in the middle of the room, facing Jean, legs parted for a better stabilization, one of his hands over his thigh and the other pulling his hair back, putting his muscles on display – and his crotch, though he tried to dismiss this thought or things would get really embarrassing. Feeling Jean staring at him like that made him want to crawl out of his skin, though he could see Jean was really focused, far into the realm of drawing. He had become an object – hopefully, a beautiful one – under his eyes, as his pencil captured the essence of his youthful, healthy body.

“Let’s stop here”, Jean finally said. “I’ve got my first draft. Thank you very much, Marco”, he said sincerely. “You are a very good model.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, again I'm sorry it took so long I'm working on too many things at the same time... Don't hesitate to comment and tell me what you think, either here or on my tumblr, or even kick my ass for the next chapter because it does get me motivated. Yes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean models and Bertholdt experiences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello y'all! I'm sorry I took so long - I was stuck on this chapter and I'm still no sure I managed to get it right, but it's written, at least! I apologize if my take on a BDSM scene is off, I'm trying my best and well. I hope you'll like it.  
> There should be a few more updates since I'm using the NaNoWriMo to write for this fic, so bear with me!

Marco quickly put his clothes back on, and took his stuff out as Jean undressed slowly behind the screen. When he looked up from his canvas, Jean was standing there, his face red, and the colour was quickly spreading to his neck and upper chest. Without thinking, Marco gasped: Jean was even more beautiful like this, bashful, averting his eyes and running his hand on the shaved part of his head, repressing his urge to hide his privates.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t know how to pose like you” Jean mumbled, and Marco shook his head.  
“It’s okay, just do as I tell you.”

Marco gave him some directives and a moment later, Jean was sitting on a stool, one leg brought up to his chest, the other helping him keep his balance, his hands stabilizing him from behind, looking at Marco. There was something, in the curve of his back, the angle of his jaw and his general appearance that reminded Marco of Renaissance models, and he started sketching, his mind prisoner of the beauty he saw in his friend. And would have Jean been able to see his drawing, he would have been amazed: he could have sensed the passion behind Marco’s pencil.

But finally, the moment came when Marco cleaned up everything while Jean put his clothes on, and it felt like the moment had been broken – like they would never find again this feeling of peace and quietness mixed with the bashfulness of undressing and display their bodies to the eye of the other. It was a unique experience, a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and they could feel it. Parting in front of Marco’s building was the final blow, but soon, Jean disappeared in the night while Marco climbed up the stairs that led back home. He barely greeted his brother, immediately grabbing his sketchbook and drawing everything he could remember of Jean – how he stood in the middle of the room, bashful and yet determined, the gleam in his eyes, the curve of his shoulders, the sharp angles of his hips and the shadows of his collarbones. He drew the long, thin fingers wrapped around the pencil as Jean drew him, he drew the slight curve of his neck and the shape of his legs, wishing to put everything down, and yet it was already escaping. He had never slept more peacefully than on that night.

 

“Okay, so that’s a paddle. And I assume this thing there is a collar”, Berthold said, his fingers ghosting over the accessories.

Reiner nodded, his eyes getting back to his documents as he checked the material. He had told everyone they would receive a new shipment by the end of the week, and was now registering everything, Bertholdt cleaning and ordering everything at the same time.

“And what’s tha-” he asked, grabbing a strap that protruded from one of the box. “Oh. I think I know what it is.”

Reiner laughed earnestly at the sheepish face he made and grabbed the item.

“That was not part of my order, so I assume Hanji added her order to mine. It’s an arrangement we’ve made a while ago, because ordering just one or two items isn’t worth it, it costs too much. So when I order for the dungeon, she puts her order with mine and then we separate everything.”

He set it aside, and Bertholdt stared at him like he had just realized something.

“Actually I know what it is and what it is used for, but I don’t know what it’s called.”  
“That’s a strap-on”, Reiner answered simply. “Though I must admit I never really bothered myself with how they’re used since we don’t use that stuff here and I never needed it myself, so if you have any question you’d better ask Hanji.”

Bertholdt shook his head.

“Thank you for answering all my questions, and I’m sorry if I’m being a bother.”  
“No problem”, Reiner answered. He set his documents down and looked at him. “Actually, I was wondering something. You seem to be very curious about BDSM, have you ever thought about trying for yourself?”

Bertholdt averted his eyes, blushing, and answered:

“I didn’t when I still thought it was all about sex, but now that I know it’s not, yes, I have.”  
“Would you… Would you like it if I introduced you to BDSM through a scene? Without anything sexual since you’re uncomfortable with it, of course.” He shrugged his shoulders with a wry smile: “I don’t do sex on the first meeting anyway.”

Bertholdt blinked.

“Are you… asking me to be my dom?”  
“It’s just one session if you don’t want to go any further, to introduce you if you want to. Of course, if you don’t feel comfortable enough with me, you just have to say it. I will not be vexed.”  
“We… We’d be going to my pace, right?”  
“Of course. It’s part of the process, you tell your partner your limits and they tell your theirs.”

Bertholdt considered the proposition for a moment, and then nodded.

“Then I’d like to try. I think I’d be able to trust you with this.”

Reiner smiled;

“Great! How about we meet here on Friday’s afternoon, after our classes and before the opening?”

Bertholdt nodded once more.

“That’d be alright with me, yes. Thank you… thank you for offering, Reiner.”  
“A pleasure. I wouldn’t want you to have a bad first experience, after all.”

Bertholdt smiled, blushing slightly.

“You’re very caring.”

Reiner didn’t answer, but he averted his eyes and became red.

“Whatever. Get back to work”, he grumbled, nudging Bertholdt.

When Bertholdt came back home, Reiner had given him his evening, considering he had worked with him in the afternoon, and Marco was preparing dinner. He sniffed the air and smiled.

“It smells good! What are you cooking, lil’ bro?”  
“Paprika chicken”, Marco answered. “I used Mom’s recipe, I remember it was your favorite.”

Bertholdt’s eyes gleamed at the prospect of the meal. Soon, the table was set and the two brothers were sitting together, eating in silence.

“So how was your day?” Bertholdt finally asked. “Was your painting session with Jean alright, or is he still tense?”  
“Very good, my courses were really interesting today”, Marco replied, smiling. “And Jean seems to relax a bit now.” He dug in his food, thinking. “He’s a really nice guy, Bert. Really gentle and caring, he listens and does his best to understand people. And it…” He put his fork down, clenching his fist. “It hurts me to see him unhappy like he is. I know I didn’t tell you, but I can’t… I can’t bear it alone. You promise you won’t tell anyone?”  
“Of course, Marco, of course”, Bertholdt said, sitting closer. “What’s the matter?”  
“He… I think he’s gay, and that he’s afraid to admit it, because his family is very religious and conservative from what he told me, so it has… never been an option.”  
“You’re telling me he’s in the closet, then?”  
“No, no, that’s not it. Well, sort of, but not exactly. He… He just can’t admit to himself he isn’t attracted to girls but to guys. We never talk about it since, but you should have seen his eyes… He was so afraid, it was as if admitting he was gay would destroy the world he knew, he just _couldn’t_ …”  
“Maybe that’s it. He can’t. You know, the mind is a complex thing. If he is trying to convince himself he fits into the cis-hetero norm, he will be blind to all other options. The fear he probably feels is something we can’t understand, Marco, because our parents were pretty open-minded and we both knew it would not be a problem. And it is also highly probable he knows next to nothing about gays and alternative lifestyles. Some people are really afraid of the unknown, you know.”  
“But-”  
“It’s a reflex to protect ourselves. He won’t accept a single thing until he feels ready to learn more. The best thing you can do for him right now is being present, listening, and being open-minded for him.” Bertholdt laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Everyone can change. It’s not easy, but it is possible, and once he’ll come to terms with his sexuality, he’ll need someone to rely on. Perhaps to hold him back a bit.”

Marco nodded, and finally looked up at him. 

“And you? Have you thought about it since I asked you?”  
“I had plenty of time to reflect on it, and with my line of work it’s better to know where you stand. And I’d say that the genre of my partner doesn’t really matter, what makes them attractive in my eyes is the relationship, the connexion we have.”  
“Yeah, I get what you say.” He tapped his lips for a second, and dropped his hand. “I think I’m exclusively gay. Girls… make wonderful art subjects and are very beautiful, but I just… I just don’t feel any desire for them. It’s different with men.”

Bertholdt ruffled his hair with a grin.

“As long as you are careful, I don’t care who your partner is. All I want is for you to be safe.”  
“And I want the same for you”, Marco said, standing up and taking away the dishes. “I just want what’s best for you.”

 

Friday afternoon arrived astoundingly quickly, and Bertholdt was nervous. He kept looking at his phone though there was no new message, his foot tapping at the cement anxiously.

“You are so nervous, I swear you’ll die of a heart attack”, Reiner’s voice stated somewhere behind him. “Let’s go, unless you changed your mind.”

Soon enough, they arrived at _The Thorns and The Roses_ , closed and dark. While Reiner switched on the lights, Bertholdt hang their coats, meeting the blond man in his office.

“Sit down, we need to put down a few things before we start”, Reiner said. “About your limits and mines. We already agreed that no sexual play would be involved, but it means different things with different people. My limit for this session is the mouth. I will not kiss you on the mouth”, he stated firmly. “Are other kisses alright with you or out of limits?”

Bertholdt’s heart was pounding.

“It’s alright. And I’ll keep my underwear on at all times.”  
“The same goes for me”, Reiner nodded. “I’ll tell you what I had in mind for this session and you tell me what you think, okay? Don’t hesitate, I need to know what you like and what you want.”  
“Okay, seems alright to me”, Bertholdt gulped.  
“Pain will be kept out of the way, but I thought sensation play could be interesting. Things like feathers, ice cubes, and just simple skin on skin touch. We could add sensory deprivation, and I was thinking of your sight. Just a simple blindfold. And finally, bondage. Perhaps not a full-body. Tell me what you think, if it makes you uncomfortable or… Just tell me.”

Bertholdt was frowning, deep in thoughts, but finally he nodded.

“That’s alright with me.”  
“We will use a basic code: red for stop everything immediately, orange for slow down or just a pause, and green if everything is alright.”

Bertholdt agreed and started to get up.

“One last thing”, Reiner stopped him. “Once the scene starts, I become the Dom, which means I’ll use a different personality. And I’d ask you to refer to me as Sir.”

Bertholdt smiled.

“Okay, no problem.”  
“Then c’mon.”

Reiner led him to one of the rooms, asking him to wait outside a bit while he prepared everything. When he opened the door once more, he wore plain black jeans and walked around bare feet, his shirt largely open on his torso. Bertholdt entered and looked around: there was a simple cushioned stool in the middle of the room, low and comfy, aside from the large double bed.

“Is it alright with you?” Reiner asked, his voice concerned.  
“Yeah, it’s perfect.”  
“Then, the scene starts now”, he said in a low voice. “Take off your clothes.”

Bertholdt shivered. Even his voice was different, lower and sultry, seductive and commanding. He kicked off his shoes and took off his shirt, folding it neatly as he placed it on the carpeted floor. Slowly, he turned around to look at Reiner, almost gasping under his gaze – it felt like he was seeing down to his soul, like he was unable to disobey this intense look. His hands hovered over his trousers, and Reiner nodded – a curt nod, just an approbation of his silent question. Slowly, he pulled them off, folded them and put them with his shirt. He still wore his black underwear, but never before had he felt this naked.

“Good”, Reiner said, “now step forward.”

The blond man grabbed a roll of black rope, and Bertholdt saw the emergency-blade on a nearby stash. He didn’t move when Reiner’s fingertips grazed his shoulders, repressing a shiver.

“Arms in your back”, he ordered in a stern voice, and already Bertholdt felt the rope against his skin. It barely brushed at first, but then it dug in his skin and if it wasn’t painful, it sure was foreign. He resisted urge to test his biding as Reiner tied the first noose, his hands moving around with experience as he draped the rope around his body – his chest and entire torso, his forearms pressed against the small of his back – and his heart was thumping in his chest and yet he wasn’t afraid, because it was Reiner and he trusted him.  
“Sit down”, he said, the hem of his jeans brushing against Bertholdt’s naked calves and ankles.

He had to look up if he wanted to see Reiner, who seemed all the more impressive from down there. He saw the hint of a smile in his eyes, but it never reached his lips as he held a strong gaze on him. Bertholdt felt small as Reiner finally looked away and grabbed a black, silky cloth, tugging on it lightly as if to test the fabric, before wrapping it around his head to cover his eyes, tying it tightly enough so it wouldn’t move, but not enough to hurt of be uncomfortable. Bertholdt tested the blindfold: he couldn’t see a thing, now, not even a ray of light. He was completely at Reiner’s mercy. His breath hitched, his fingers tightening.

“Colour?” Reiner asked as he licked his lips to make sure his voice would bear.  
“Orange”, he said, his voice unsteady. “Just give me a minute to get used to all of this.”  
“Of course”, Reiner said, and even without seeing him Bertholdt could tell he had nodded.

He took his time to steady his breathing, reminding himself that he was safe and that he could stop at any moment. Took his time to get accustomed to the feeling of the ropes against his naked skin, and the smooth silk over his eyelids. To get accustomed to Reiner’s presence by his side, strong, warm and comforting. He breathed in calmly once more.

“Okay”, he said. “Green.”

Reiner didn’t move. He could feel him next to him, but he wasn’t moving. Then he felt him shifting his position to get to his height and soon, he could feel a warm palm against his cheek. It rested here for a moment, before changing for fingers lightly tracing his forehead, his nose, his cheekbones and his jaw. His senses heightened by the lack of his eyesight made him shiver at the feeling, huffing a little as the tip of Reiner’s fingers brushed against his lips.

“Let go”, Reiner’s voice murmured, so close and yet so far, commanding and wishing him to yield to his will.

And Bertholdt slowly yielded as the hands travelled to his neck, keeping their touch light and yet very present, as if putting his skin on fire, and down to his shoulders and his arms. The more Reiner touched him and respected his boundaries, the more he could feel himself relax under his touch, allowing himself to not be in charge for once – allowing himself to taste fully the present moment, to be just himself, totally overpowered by Reiner and unable to control anything, and yet never without an emergency door.

“You’re doing very well”, Reiner praised him, and he never expected it to feel like melted chocolate was flowing in his veins, as if he was reaching some kind of height he never knew before – something different from desire, different from sexual pleasure, different from the climax of an orgasm. Something that completely took over his mind and made his body slump in its bindings; for once he had not a care in the world. He was fine.

He couldn’t help the loud gasp that escaped his mouth when he suddenly felt cold against his collarbones, nor the huffs that followed as he felt the ice-cube slide against his skin, dripping cold over his heated skin. The feeling was intense and foreign, and yet he enjoyed it – enjoyed the contrast between the warmth of his skin and the warmth of Reiner’s hands, and the ice-cold of the cube, the shivering it brought him, as if his skin, after expanding over his body, was suddenly retracting and making him smaller. He could feel his lower lip quiver and he repressed the urge to bite his tongue to keep himself from making any weird noise.

He felt safe, and the still-rational part of his mind knew he was, though he could tell he was slowly losing his grasp on it as the cold moved lower, to the plains of his abs that seemed to scrunch under it, and to the sharp ridges of his shoulder blades, sliding slowly down his spine and making him curve his back, not knowing if he wanted to escape the sensation or move closer to it.

And then he couldn’t tell what he was feeling anymore as bliss overtook his rationality, putting his trust in Reiner unconditionally. He was lost in a world of sharp and soft sensations, of warmth and cold, whimpering when Reiner pressed the ice-cube to his nape, feelings swelling in his chest – gratitude and ecstasy, something he never imagined he’d know one day.

Slowly, the intensity of the sensations decreased, until there was no cold anymore, just the warmth, and his shivering body still wet from the melted ice.

“You did very good”, Reiner said, and Bertholdt could almost feel the strain in his voice. “Now, we will end the scene.”

He untied the blindfold and Bertholdt blinked his eyes, and the light would have probably hurt him if Reiner hadn’t dimmed it to help him get used to it. Gently, he let him out of his bindings, before grabbing a warm towel and drying him. Bertholdt still felt too dazed to move, say something or even form a coherent thought. He was glad, however, when the Dom enveloped him in a large, fluffy and comfortable blanket, helping him to sit on the bed nearby before handing him a glass of water and a bar of cereals. Drinking and eating helped him put things back in order; still he curled up against Reiner when the older man pulled him against him, hugging him tightly and rubbing his back.

“How do you feel?” he finally asked.  
“I… Wonderful. I feel wonderful, Reiner. I feel like my body is made of cotton.”

They stayed like this for a while, until he felt steady enough to put on his clothes and stand up by himself. When he looked at his phone, which he had muted during the scene, he gasped as he realized it had been a little bit more than three hours since he entered the room with Reiner. He didn’t feel like they had spent that much time together – but his sense of time had been pretty hindered by the pleasure.

“You look exhausted”, Reiner chuckled, “I’m taking you back home and we talk about it tomorrow, okay?”  
“Okay”, Bertholdt nodded, because he knew that he wouldn’t be able to focus on a conversation right now, when his organism was still buzzing with so many new sensations and feelings. “Thank you, Reiner. It was… It was an interesting and pleasurable experience.”  
“The pleasure is mine”, the blond man assured him with a warm smile. “C’mon now. Let’s get you back home.”

Once he was in the safety of his apartment, Bertholdt took a warm shower and wrapped himself up in warm pyjamas and robe – the nights were still cold, despite spring settling in, sitting on the bed after ordering take-out for Marco and himself. It didn’t take long for his brother to come home, the young man barely greeting him before grabbing his sketch book and putting his memories on the paper. The mischievous gleam in Jean’s eyes when he has spread blue paint on Marco’s cheek, and the redness of his cheeks when Marco had retaliated by putting white handprints all over his own naked body – handprints that were now appearing on Jean’s sketch for his painting of him. Finally, he stopped drawing, stirred and nestled against his brother.

“I can’t stand being with Jean”, he muttered. “He is so damn beautiful, and kind, and funny, and sweet-hearted, and courageous, and stubborn, I swear I will die before the end of the year.”

Bertholdt chuckled.

“You are seriously crushing on him.”

Marco glared at him.

“Are we talking about your sexy boss?”

Bertholdt’s cheeks flamed and he grunted.

“No we’re not, I get the message.”

Marco hummed in satisfaction.

“Seriously though, if you want to date him, don’t hold back for me. I’d feel really bad if you missed your chance because of me.”

Bertholdt smiled and ruffled his hair.

“Thank you lil’ bro, but this is out of the question. He is my boss, I dare say he is my friend, but nothing more. Hell, I don’t even know if he swings that way”, Bertholdt laughed. “Though I’d say he does.”  
“People would have to be stupid or mad to reject you anyway”, Marco answered. “I’m certain you can make him fall for you if you try.”  
“Why the hell would I try?” Bertholdt laughed, embarrassed. “I told you, it’s not like this.”  
“If you say so”, Marco hummed. “But you seem so much happier since you’ve met him. He’s good to you, Bert, you can’t deny that.”  
“We had locked ourselves in our own bubble”, Bertholdt said, “it was just the two of us and our problems. We needed friends, everyone needs friends.”  
“I can’t say you’re wrong”, Marco replied, leaning on him, “and I do feel a lot better now that there’s Jean, and I think he feels better as well.”

They finished their dinner and Bertholdt yawned, stretching his lanky self.

“Well I don’t know about you but I’m going to sleep”, he said. “I’m exhausted.”  
“Bert, it’s barely eight and a half”, Marco said in disbelief as his brother tucked himself under the covers.  
“Is it? I feel like it is two in the morning”, he mumbled. “Just take my laptop and watch a film.”

Marco didn’t even have time to answer him, Bertholdt was already sleeping, a satisfied smile on his lips. Still, he could tell it was different from the time his brother worked his ass off and slept like a log through the night – he seemed relaxed. He seemed fine. Wrapping himself in a blanket, he grabbed his phone, his sketch book, and locked himself in the bathroom. He couldn’t help but close his eyes when Jean answered, a shiver running through his body at the sound of his voice. It didn’t matter if they spent most of their time together, he couldn’t get use to his voice. Talking with Jean was as easy as breathing, and being silent together was never uncomfortable. He had a hard time believing how far they had come – how good it felt to be together, when things had once been so awkward as they learned to know each other. He only hung up when Jean fell asleep by the phone, his breathing deep and calm, before retreating to the bed.

 

Bertholdt was the first to arrive to the café where they usually met, sitting down while he waited for Reiner. The blond man didn’t take long to arrive, apologizing for being late to their meeting – something to do with an old woman who had fell in the street. He waited for the waitress to take their orders and bring them before looking straight at Bertholdt.

“How do you feel?” he simply asked, and Bertholdt turned beet red, averting his eyes.  
“Fine”, he answered, almost whispering. “It’d been so long since I slept like this”, he admitted sheepishly.  
“Was there anything you didn’t like, or that made you uncomfortable?” Reiner asked seriously, observing his expressions to understand how he really felt.

Bertholdt quickly shook his head.

“N-No, it was perfect; I’d never felt something like that, it was…good.”  
“Good?” Reiner smirked, and Bertholdt turned a deeper shade of red.  
“Really good?” he tentatively said. “I… I don’t have the words to express how I felt, it was like entering another dimension and I…” He looked at Reiner, amazed, “I was able to let go. To forget all my responsibilities and just… feel. There was nothing else than you, me and the sensations.” He chuckled, “Hell if I knew ice cubes could do that.”

Reiner’s face crinkled into a smile, a warm smile that reached his eyes, and for a moment Berthold forgot how to breathe. Had Reiner always been this warm, this beautiful? And then the blond man looked away and Bertholdt felt like he was gasping for breath.

“I take it you liked our session?” he simply said.

Bertholdt nodded.

“I did.”  
“Would you like to do it again?”

Bertholdt stared at him and took a breath.

“Yes”, he answered, and his voice was firmer than he thought it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, as usual don't hesitate to comment and tell me what you thought of it, give me advices or anything, it warms me heart *sassy pirate voice*!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reiner and Bertholdt go further into their relationship. Jean is lost, but luckily Marco is there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapter summaries are so bad aaargh. Anyway I managed to finish another chapter!  
>  _ **WARNINGS**_ : there is quite heavy homophobia in this passage, especially in the first paragraph. You might want to skip it, until "Three months went by". There is also internalized homophobia from Jean a bit later, but it's like... part of the story, and kept relatively light.

Jean was sketching for his classes in the kitchen, his mother preparing the dinner, when his father came back from work. He heard his grumble even before seeing him, his shoulders tensing in worry.

“I can’t believe it”, he exclaimed as soon as he entered the room, barely taking the time to kiss his wife hello, “I just saw the new neighbour, you know…”  
“Oh yeah, Steven, isn’t it? The one who helped you when the car broke the other day?” his mother said, without looking up from her task. “He is charming.”  
“Well he’s a _fag_ ”, his father spat out, and Jean nearly broke his pencil as his fingers clenched on it.

His mother put down her kitchen knife to look at her husband, disgust painted on her face.

“Are you sure?”  
“Of course I’m sure, he was kissing a guy on his front porch!” his father almost yelled. He turned his eyes to his son. “Don’t talk to him, Jean. God knows what ideas he could put in your mind.”

Jean felt the blood drain from his face, his fingers gripping his pencil even tighter. He gulped.

“Yes, Dad”, he answered, relieved that his voice wasn’t trembling.  
“I’m serious, Jean. Not. A. Word.”  
“But-”  
“No buts”, his mother said. “We don’t want you to talk with those people. That’s the best way to keep you safe from any sin. You’re already exposed enough, with those art courses you’re taking.”

He didn’t look up, staring at his sketch as a shiver ran down his spine. He wanted to stand up against them. To defend Steven – the guy had always been nice to him, had never done anything wrong. But the words were dying in his throat. _Fag_. He couldn’t stand the hatred and the disgust he could see in their eyes.

“Jean?” his mother said, and he realized he had been frozen like this for a moment.  
“I- I think I’ll go think about it in my room”, he said with a trembling smile, standing up and gathering his things. “To take the best decisions.”

His mother seemed relieved and he scrambled back to his room – wishing he could lock the door, but he couldn’t. He simply closed it without a sound, his breath shaking. Why did he feel like this? It never affected him this much before.

_Who cares for who you like and who you fuck? I sure don’t. Would it bother you that much?_

Yes, that was that. Marco. Marco didn’t care. Is he gay too? The thought made him shiver as he sat on his bed, biting his lips. Why did it matter so much? His fingers gripped at his hair, tears streaming down his face. _I’m not like that. I’m not gay. I’m not._ Then why did he felt like this every time he thought about Marco? Why did he have this urge to touch his skin, why did he want to grab his hand and hold it tightly? Why did he felt like his heart would burst when Marco smiled to him?

Why did he want Marco to wrap his arms around him and tell him it was okay? That there was nothing wrong with him, that he hadn’t sinned, that he wouldn’t burn in hell? _Because I love him._ Where did this thought come from? He was not gay, how could he _love_ Marco? And why was he crying, why did it hurt so much?

Slowly, he got to his knees, his sheets bunched up in his hands, mumbling the words that didn’t make any sense through his tears.

“Count not my transgressions, but, rather, my tears of repentance. Remember not my iniquities, but, more especially, my sorrow for the offenses I have committed against You.” _I don’t feel any better._ He mumbled the prayer to the end, still, out of habit, but it didn’t calm his muffled sobbing – _I didn’t do anything wrong._

Was it wrong of him to love Marco? The guy didn’t have a wicked bone in his body, he was warmth and sun, he was forgiveness and comprehension, he was all Jean wished for, and yet… Yet he shouldn’t have.

He could still feel Marco’s gaze on him when they had painted each other – he could still remember how beautiful he felt, every time Marco looked at him. As if there was nothing more beautiful than him in his eyes. Slowly, he dried his tears and got up, clenching his fists.

It wasn’t the first time. He could remember feeling the same pain when he thought about Eren, not so long ago. He was stronger than this, wasn’t he? He had chosen his path – he was going to be the perfect boy his parents expected him to be. This was just a slip of his feet, he had not fallen.

_Liar._

He grabbed his phone, hesitating a bit before calling Marco. His friend answered almost immediately. He could do this. Stay away, control his feelings. He could-

“I saw a _blue_ , man I wish I could have painted it”, Marco said in his usual sun-filled voice, laughter just around the corner, and Jean felt his heart melt, a smile slowly forming in his lips. “Jean, are you listening?”  
“Oh hum yeah, yeah I’m listening!”  
“Liar”, Marco laughed. “Do you want to talk about it?”  
“I’d rather not”, he simply said, knowing Marco wouldn’t push any further, closing his eyes and enjoying the simple flow of the conversation.

Maybe he couldn’t control his feelings, but it didn’t mean anyone would know.

 

Three months went by in the blink of an eye. Reiner had his thesis, while Bertholdt, Jean and Marco all had their year and went on. Since their first scene together, Bertholdt and Reiner had grown a lot closer, their trust and knowledge of each other deepening as they worked together and “played” together. Bertholdt felt at ease in his submissive role, the only safe place where, for once, he wasn’t responsible, where he just needed to listen and obey. He deeply loved those moments of intimacy with Reiner – something that was just between the two of them, and that no one else needed to know about. Despite what Marco said, he refused to admit he had fallen in love with Reiner – and his brother teased him a lot about that, though he’d always lend a comprehensive ear when he needed. He was blooming, finally feeling fine, loved and accepted. He had made cherished friends of his co-workers and knew he could count on them when needed – and they all knew how dependable he was. Though his main role was still welcoming the clients at _The Thorns and the Roses_ , he had become a lot more active in the dungeon’s life, not hesitating now to enter the main room when needed and even joking with them – well, mostly with Mike, he had to admit, though he had grown closer to Erwin, but it was not like anyone could actually dislike the blond photograph, could they?

Perhaps, also, had he noticed the gleam in Reiner’s eyes, the smile he had only for him, the way he grew red sometimes. Was it really meaningful? He didn’t know. He wouldn’t dare to hope – the deep friendship they had was enough for him. Wouldn’t dare to imagine a _what if I didn’t misunderstand?_ He knew he had perfectly decoded Reiner’s language when he received his message one evening, as he was washing the dishes with Marco. He nearly dropped the plate he was washing when Marco read him the text message, snickering as Bertholdt turned a deep shade of red.

**Do you want to go for a film and then a dinner with me? I mean, would you go on a date with me?** Reiner had written, and it was so much like him, and Bertholdt’s heart swelled when he realized how comprehensive Reiner was being – sending him a message instead of asking him directly, to give him to think and be flustered at home. He knew him oh so well – sometimes it was even frightening, how Reiner understood him when they had met barely eight months ago. Then again, they did spend a lot of time together and had developed trust in each other.

He smiled, then, biting his finger as he re-read the message and giggled like an idiot. He then looked at his brother, who was beaming, on the brink of bursting in laughter.

“W-What should I do? How do I answer?”  
“Well it’s simple”, Marco said, “either you want to go and you say yes, or you don’t want to and you kindly and respectfully reject his offer.” He then started to laugh, “and I think that’s settling it about his orientation: no matter what he likes, he’s definitely into you.”  
“You spawn of evil”, Bertholdt roared, throwing him the dish-towel. “Have you got no shame, teasing your big brother like that?”  
“Absolutely none”, Marco answered between his fit of laughter. “That’s totally worth it.”

Bertholdt paced around the room – well, he took two steps and then he had to turn around, they didn’t live in a palace – with his phone, staring at the screen. Slowly, his heart beating too fast, he tapped his answer: _I would love to. When?_

His phone buzzed not two minutes later, and he almost pounced on it to read the message: **Great! How about Friday evening? I’ll come get you at six :)**  
 _Perfect_ , he answered, hesitating before adding a _I can’t wait_ in a trembling hand. He then groaned, collapsing face first into the bed.

“I’m pathetic”, he mumbled into the covers.  
“Yes you are”, Marco answered, still laughing at him. “That’s probably why he loves you.”  
“Don’t say stuff like that”, he almost screeched – almost, but screeching while face-planting in a mattress wasn’t easy.  
“You’ve been turning around each other for months now”, Marco retorted. “I’m just honestly glad for you.”  
“Just ask Jean to stay over Friday night and we’ll be even”, Bertholdt said.  
“That’s… That’s actually a pretty good idea”, Marco said with a smile, grabbing his phone and sending Jean a message – and not long after, the other boy had confirmed he would stay over.

Friday evening came by surprisingly fast, as Marco helped Bertholdt to choose an outfit – settling on black jeans and a green shirt, and Bertholdt had taken out a jacket but he hid it while he answered the door, red and stammering as Reiner gently smiled to him, and he totally forgot about it. He laughed, knowing nights were still cold enough that he’d need a jacket, and that Reiner would lend him his own – and playing match-maker was definitely funny. Jean arrived not long after with pizza, and they settled on the bed with a film – at first intending to watch it, but in the end they closed the laptop to talk, since they had been talking over it from the beginning and it made background noise.

Reiner was definitely fidgeting as he drove to the cinema, while Bertholdt on the contrary stood still, not daring to make a move. They had settled for an action-movie with good critics, both embarrassed as they sat next to each other – and Bertholdt silently prayed for Reiner to take his hand, but he never did, though sometimes their fingers brushed and it made Bertholdt jumpy. He wasn’t sure his heart could resist a whole evening of nerve-racking touches – luckily, the film wasn’t long and they talked a bit about it while on their way to the restaurant.

It had been so long since Bertholdt last went to a restaurant, he had forgotten the special atmosphere there was in those places, shivering at Reiner’s light touch on his back when he guided him to their table, a bit farther. And Reiner was talking animatedly about something, but he couldn’t understand half the words he said, totally entranced by his smile and glimmering eyes and _hell he was on a date with Reiner_. He knew he was smiling goofily, and yet he couldn’t help it.

“I feel like you’re absolutely not listening to me”, Reiner said jokingly.  
“Oh no I’m not”, Bertholdt answered in a whisper, and the blond man burst in laughter at his answer. Bertholdt turned beet red and quickly hid his face in his hands. “That was so embarrassing I’m sorry.”  
“No problem”, Reiner answered kindly, “I know you’re just as nervous as I am.”

Bertholdt peeked between his fingers.

“You don’t seem to be.”  
“And yet I am”, Reiner said, showing off his trembling fingers. “Honestly the dinner is just part of the package because damn if I could eat something with all those knots in my stomach.”  
“Oh thank God that wasn’t just me”, Bertholdt blurted out, staring at him, and then turning red once more when he realized what he’d said.

Reiner laughed and gently took his fingers, brushing the pad of his thumb against his knuckles.

“Well we still need to eat a bit”, he said. “I’m glad you accepted this date, I thought I’d never be courageous enough to ask you and yet here we are.”  
“And I’m glad you asked”, Bertholdt answered, smiling softly. “I kept wondering if you were sending me signals or if I was just reading too much in it.”  
“Well I _did_ keep throwing hints”, Reiner admitted sheepishly, “and it was totally worth it.”

Bertholdt smiled and they slowly managed to relax, enjoying their dinner together. Bertholdt didn’t want this evening to end, and it seemed Reiner didn’t want it to end as well, asking him to go for a walk in the park, and Bertholdt accepted.

It was starting to get cold outside, but Bertholdt didn’t realize it at first. No, he was more focused on how Reiner had grabbed his hand, and was still holding it – light enough that he could pull away if he wanted to, tight enough that he _definitely_ felt it. Smiling shyly, he tightened his grip on Reiner’s broader hand, walking aimlessly with him through the alleys, still talking with him as usual, and he could tell Reiner was listening to him, and watching him, and – God it was so much, so much, almost too much, and his heart was pounding like crazy but it still felt so good to be with him like this. And then he shivered, and Reiner quickly took off his jacket, wrapping it around his shoulders and wordlessly asking to hold his waist to keep him close. He accepted, of course he accepted, how could he not, when Reiner’s muscular arm felt like home, looped around his waist, and he could smell his perfume on the collar of the jacket, enough to make him dizzy.

He couldn’t tell how long they had been walking around, but the night was really dark and quite cold when they finally got back to the car, and it was already past midnight – how had they spent so much time just hanging around together? He didn’t know, but he couldn’t stop smiling, still feeling Reiner’s warmth on his waist even though the blond man was now driving him back home, and he felt wonderful. Reiner parked the car and accompanied him to his apartment, stopping in front of the door, and they stared at each other sheepishly.

“God I want to kiss you – can I kiss you?” Reiner finally whispered, and Bertholdt nodded, his cheeks burning as he bent, enough for Reiner to reach for his face and press their lips together. It felt good, Reiner’s lips against his, it really felt good, and Reiner was already pulling away, too soon, too fast, so Bertholdt’s hand gripped the short hair at the back of his head and pulled him in for another kiss, deeper this time, and maybe a bit messy, he didn’t know, but Reiner’s hand was cupping his cheek and it felt too damn good to stop.

Reiner pulled away, gasping and smiling, mirroring Bertholdt’s expression. Bertholdt blushed but didn’t avert his eyes, he couldn’t, held captive by Reiner’s gaze.

“Go home”, the blond murmured.

He nodded and opened the door.

“Thank you, Reiner. I had a really good time.”  
“Me too.”

He closed the door and leaned against it, putting his trembling hands on his cheeks. His brother and Jean were staring at him, a smile on their lips.

“How did it go?” Marco asked.

Berthold averted his eyes.

“It was… great.”  
“Great? C’mon, Bert, give us details!”  
“He… kissed me.”

Marco started to laugh happily, Jean staring at them, his eyes wide.

“That’s great!”  
“I’m gonna take a quick shower”, he said before disappearing into the bathroom.

Jean waited for a few seconds before turning to Marco.

“Your brother is gay? Doesn’t it bother you?”  
“No, why would it? He seems to be really happy to date this guy, I’ve got no reason to trample over his happiness. Besides, it’s not because he’s in a relationship with a man that he’s gay, you know. Love and sexual attraction are two very different things.”

Jean remained silent a moment, obviously pondering over his words.

“Are you gay too?” he finally decided to ask amongst all his other questions.  
“Yes”, Marco said firmly. “I don’t go around saying it to everybody because it’s not their business, but I am.” He looked straight at his friend. “Jean, be honest with me. Does it bother you?”

Jean bit his lips, frowning.

“It should. I’ve always been taught it should. And yet… it doesn’t. I mean, you’re you. You’re Marco, and who you’re attracted to… Well it’s your business, not mine.” His hands were trembling. “I’m lost, Marco. I don’t understand anymore. I’ve always been told gays were dangerous, not to approach them, and I believed it. But now…” He looked at Marco. “You’re not dangerous. You couldn’t hurt a fly even if you wanted to. And I…”

He averted his eyes and closed his mouth. Gently, Marco laid a hand on his forearm.

“You can talk to me, Jean. You know I will never judge you.”  
“I…” Jean started, breathing in slowly. “I think I may be attracted to guys”, he admitted, his voice low, trembling and frightened. His fingers had tightened on the sheets and he suddenly realized he was crying, wiping his tears angrily. “Shit, I’m sorry.”  
“It’s okay”, Marco replied, pulling him in for a hug. “It’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to cry.” He smiled softly and helped him wipe the treacherous tears. “I will always be there for you, okay? You can tell me when you’re not feeling well.”  
“I’m completely lost”, Jean said, “I don’t know where I’m going, what I’m doing, or who I am anymore. I… As long as I somehow fitted in the mould it was easy. But I’m not sure I can do that anymore.”

There was a silence, and finally Marco asked:

“Do you want to try kissing me?”

Jean’s head shot up, his eyes wide, almost bulging out of his head.

“What? Why?”

His cheeks were now burning red, and Marco bit his lips not to chuckle.

“I thought it could help you to figure out where you stand… If you don’t want to though it’s fine, it was just a proposition.”

Jean averted his eyes.

“It doesn’t bother you, right?”  
“Not in the slightest”, Marco answered, smiling. “Look, you pull away whenever you want, okay?” he added when he saw the tip of his ears turn bright red. Slowly, he leaned in closer, Jean still as a statue by his side. The tip of his fingers brushed his jaw, just a gentle warning before he pressed their lips together. Jean was tense, but he slowly leaned into the kiss, moving his lips against his, a bit hesitantly though. He jolted and sighed when Marco’s tongue slid against the seam of his lips, parting them instinctively and accepting him in, unable to repress a soft moan at Marco’s gentle probing.

Marco pulled back when he felt his self-control crumble, Jean’s hazy amber eyes looking at him. He smiled at his expression.

“So?”

Jean turned a deeper shade of red and brushed his fingers against his lips.

“It was… good.” He lowered his eyes. “Thank you, Marco.”  
“Oh no, you’re not thanking me for this. You don’t say thank you for this.”  
“And what do you say then?”

Marco leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You say _“More!””_

Jean burst out laughing and pushed him away.

“You’re terrible! Why am I even you friend?” He leaned back against the wall and started to chew on his lips. “It doesn’t change a thing if I’m gay, right?”

Marco was about to answer when the bathroom’s door opened and Bertholdt entered. He smiled to his friend and answered:

“No, it doesn’t.”

The beaming smile Jean gave him was all he could ever ask for.

“Alright guys, time to go to sleep”, Bertholdt declared.  
“Are you even sure you’ll be able to sleep?” Marco said with a laugh.  
“Oh no I won’t”, Bertholdt answered, shaking his head with a bright smile. “But you two’d better get your beauty sleep.”  
“You heard the man”, Marco said, and Jean climbed down to the inflatable mattress, sliding under the covers.

Bertholdt switched off the light and a few minutes later, they were all sleeping like logs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, as usual don't hesitate to comment and tell me what you thought of it.  
> Also, fun fact, Marco and Jean kissing now wasn't part of my plan. But I couldn't resist the temptation, and neither could Marco.  
> This chapter is an emotional rollercoaster and I kept laughing while editing at how cheesy Reiner and Bertholdt are. It's my fault I know, and I knew it when I wrote my plan, but I couldn't help it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, don't hesitate to comment, give advice or give me your impressions!  
> You can also see me (and have news about the fic) on my Tumblr, bittodeath.tumblr.com.
> 
> I'll try to update regularly, and if I can't I'll give an explanation on my Tumblr.


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